


No Contacts Required

by addictedtofiction7190



Series: B-day Notps: Trade your frown for your friend's smile [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Curry is ruined forever, Did I forget to mention this was an AU where everyone goes to the same school, Everyone still are gods at basketball, High School, M/M, Merge of Bokushi and Oreshi, Minor Swearing, Or angst, Pining, Side pairings include: KagaKuro, Slow burn i guess?, Too much fun with parentheses, Training Camps, aokise - Freeform, fluff?, midotaka - Freeform, muramuro - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8227582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedtofiction7190/pseuds/addictedtofiction7190
Summary: His eyes locked onto piercing red orbs and getting caught up in the moment he blurted out the first thing his mind could’ve conjured. “Are you wearing contacts?” Okay, maybe his brain wasn’t rebooted properly. Luckily, the stranger took no offence to that, even going as far as to show an amused smile.





	1. Stranger Danger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indigoandazure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigoandazure/gifts).



Furihata knew, the moment he first stepped into his new school, he was completely and utterly screwed. 

 

In hindsight, his dad accepting the transfer for his job causing his teenage son (who barely made a friend at his former school with his lacking social skills) to start anew in the middle of the school year, was not one of the best decisions his parents ever made.  

 

He was given a couple of days off school to complete the move and to get use his new environment. After all, he’d never been anywhere but his childhood town since his birth; a city was too extravagant for his taste. He should’ve taken up the school’s offer to look around when it stood instead of brushing it off like the rest of his good ideas and believed he could face the music when it was necessary. 

 

Now, he stood in the middle of an abandoned hallway with no signs of life, an hour late to his classes, and he was pretty sure he forgot to bring his phone so calling for help was not a possible option. He was stuck in between the four phases of being: lost, confused, overwhelmed, and frightened, all the while trying to find the teacher’s office in the labyrinth they call a school. He was pretty sure Lady Luck, who was never there whenever he needed it, called in sick and was replaced Mr. Misfortune because five minutes had passed since he began walking and everything still looked the same. 

 

The panicked conversation happening inside his head muffled the sound of a door opening. Within the next few seconds, he made a first impression he was sure to look back on and cry about in a few years. If you listened closely enough you could hear the exact moment when Furihata’s train of thought crashed with an opposing train. 

 

“ What are you doing here?” the voice asked.

 

In a spur of happiness and surprise, he quickly turned his body to face his saviour, only to process to freefalling until his face was a bit too close to the floor for his comforts. Needless to say, the things he held was splattered across the floor like paint being thrown on a blank canvas. With a sigh, Furihata got into a kneeling position in order to pick up his fallen items. He’d done it now. His only hope of finding his way around this maze was probably scared off and once again the hallway was silent. 

 

The sound of footsteps growing louder with every step surprised him. Furihata froze when the owner of the footsteps joined in to help him gather his things. The stranger swiftly finished picking up his portion of the items, he rose and offered a hand in helping Furihata up. 

 

It took a few moments for Furihata’s brain to reboot after the initial unplanned shutdown. Once it was working again, his eyes lingered on the hand. He was unsure of the situation but was certain the stranger was annoyed at how much time he was wasting with his hesitation. A few more mental screams of panic in his head occurred before he decided to accept the hand’s offer. 

 

He took his belongings from the stranger’s hold and gave a quick ‘thanks’, to let the other know his help was much appreciated. The other person responded with a ‘no problem’ dropped equally as rapid as Furihata’s comment. Furihata gathered up his courage and raised his head to make eye contact with the stranger; ‘ it was rude not to look directly at someone when spoken to’, his mother had taught him.

 

His eyes locked onto piercing red orbs and getting caught up in the moment he blurted out the first thing his mind could’ve conjured. 

 

“Are you wearing contacts?” Okay, maybe his brain wasn’t rebooted properly. 

 

Luckily, the stranger took no offence to that, even going as far as to show an amused smile. 

 

“I can assure you they are natural. Do you always try to offend people on your first meeting?” the stranger questioned. “Not that I was offended,” he reassured the brunette. 

 

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking properly and your eyes are just such an unusual shade - not that there’s anything wrong with that, rather, I was surprised. It’s a common thing for me to blurt out the first thing I think of when I’m nervous and I always end up ranting - Oh I’m probably ranting right now. I’m sorry I-” 

 

“Calm down,” the stranger commanded effectively ending Furihata’s ranting. “I’m pretty sure you have a lot on your mind right now but you still haven’t answered my previous question. I am Akashi Seijurou, as the student council president, it is my duty to know why someone I’ve never met before is here at our school.” 

 

Furihata, still flustered, tried his best to answer the question without stuttering. “Ahaha, yes,” he let out a shaky laugh. “I-I’m a new student here and I’m suppose to start school here today,” Furihata responded. 

 

The president, Akashi, with an aura of a high-class elite, gave a doubtful look at Furihata. “ May I ask why you are not in our school uniform?” 

 

Furihata felt self-conscious. His eyes darted to his old school’s uniform and compared it with the one the president was wearing. He felt a bit ashamed and embarrassed he wasn’t in his proper attire; even though it wasn’t his fault. “ Er, my order was slightly delayed. So until next week I won’t be able to wear the correct uniform.” This was feeling more and more like a police interrogation rather than a casual conversation (even though the conversation was anything but casual). 

 

Akashi looked satisfied with the answer moved on to asking another question. “ What class are you in? Oh, my apologies. What is your name?” 

 

“ I’m Furihata Kouki and starting today I will be in class 1-B,” Furihata answered.

 

A look of remembrance flashed in the eyes of the president and his demeanour towards Furihata changed to a slightly more positive one. 

 

“Ah, yes. I remember now. Furihata Kouki of 1-B, who I’ve arranged for someone to guide you around but you never showed up and caused the other person to be delayed for their class. Luckily, the person wasn’t marked late. However, you being marked late was unavoidable and I believe you’ve made quite a first impression on your teacher to not arrive on time on the first day.” Akashi then proceeded to give Furihata time to absorb what he spoke of and time to let guilt overtake him.  

 

“I-Well I…..” he tried to speak but couldn’t manage to form a sentence that doesn’t sound too overly apologetic but not come out as he felt no faults either. This resulted in a one-minute silence as Furihata was too stunned to speak and Akashi had nothing else to comment. 

 

In the end, all that Furihata could do was stare at the ground and murmur an “ I’m sorry,” whilst trying to hold back tears threatening to leak from his already moist eyes. 

 

Akashi’s expression remained unchanged, He looked at Furihata as if he had just committed a huge sin that cannot be easily forgiven (he might as well have if being late caused him to meet an actual real-life demon). Maybe he got bored of the awkward silences passing between the two or simply didn’t give a shit about Furihata anymore because he decided to walk on ahead, leaving Furihata to gaze at his slowly disappearing shadow. 

 

Furihata was in a trance. He attached his eyes to trail behind his president and marvelled at how such a petite-looking man managed to carry the intense aura of a powerful king- no emperor should be the right word. The scarlet red locks of his hair added to the vivid image in his head of a past emperor, covered in robes of gold, leaving a trail of scarlet red blood and some staining his pure form too. The thought was dismissed as he was snatched back to reality by the sudden stoppage of the constant rhythm built up by the footsteps. 

 

Akashi turned to face Furihata once again and sent him a look with an eyebrow perfectly raised. “ I assumed you were going to follow me. Or have I not made myself clear?” Akashi questioned the brunet before restarting his perfectly timed walking once more. 

 

Fearing for his life what the other man might do to him if he disobeyed, he had no choice but to sprint in order to catch up with the red head. 

 

“ Running in the halls is prohibited in the school,” Akashi kindly sent him a reminder once Furihata caught up slightly out of breath and trailed behind him like a lost duckling (which wasn’t far off from the truth). 

 

Furihata just kept his mouth shut and tried not to get in Akashi’s way. His mind drifted off into a sleep-like state, his body was put on autopilot. Akashi had to be his guide, hopefully, he wouldn’t crash. 

 

He didn’t even realise the scenery changed, nor that he was in a completely different part of the school until Akashi abruptly stopped. Furihata’s face met Akashi’s back with a slam and the impact hauled him back into reality. Turns out, he crashed after all. 

 

Akashi turned around and stared at Furihata as if he was expecting him to do something. He was met with a confused look instead of anything useful. A few seconds of staring exchanging left Akashi slightly annoyed as his twitching eye betrayed but nevertheless, his perfect plastered-on smile didn’t waver one bit. 

 

“ Well? We’re here. Aren’t you going to enter?” Akashi questioned. 

“ Huh?” was the brilliant respond Furihata managed to choke out. 

 

“ Your class. Class 1-B. You should go inside, join your class, take your lessons properly and apologise to the teacher for being late.” 

 

With that being said, Akashi knocked on the door for him. The teacher popped his head out, mouth in a position that is ready to lecture whoever interrupted his lesson but he closed it as soon as he saw Akashi. His look of irritation switched over to a look of confusion instead. 

 

“Sorry to disturb your lesson sir,” Akashi spoke. “ However, I brought good news,” he flashed a smile, “ and a new student,” he added as an afterthought. 

 

The teacher turned his attention to Furihata and noticed his presence for the first time. He gave Furihata a glare before inviting him inside telling him to hurry it up. 

 

“ Don’t be late again,” Akashi called out before Furihata entered the classroom and he swore his heart skipped a beat.

 

Furihata froze mid step. He had to fight off the urge and instinct to turn around. After the left brain (logical side) dominated the right (emotional side), he resumed going in without giving Akashi a second thought (a total lie and he knew it). 

 

The teacher remained with Akashi outside for a few minutes while Furihata awkwardly stood in front of a thirtysomething class full of people staring at him. The only thing he could do to entertain the class was to offer a shy smile whilst he mentally prayed to every single god he could name to bring the teacher back in and end his misery (though being an atheist might have ruined the possibility of getting a response). He would rather have a middle-aged old man chide his ear off any day rather than be in an unwanted spotlight in front of possible future friends ( bullies if he was unlucky). 

 

As soon as the teacher arrived, he began his scolding just as Furihata had predicted. When he was finished, he arranged for Furihata to be put near the front so he could keep his eyes on the new ‘troublemaker’ and proceeded to pick up where he left off on his lesson, leaving Furihata confused and feeling deserted. 

 

Furihata tried to figure out where the teacher was trying to go with his lesson.  He gave up when he couldn’t keep up with the unsynchronized moments of his teacher’s mouth and the sounds coming out of it. His mind was currently in chaos and he doesn’t know what was the trigger. Scratch that. He knew perfectly after it screamed out the same name five times constitutively. It zoned in on a certain topic he apparently couldn’t make disappear, the student council president, Akashi Seijurou. 

 

At the thought of him, his chest tightened. For what reason? He doesn’t have a grasp on the answer either. The bold, stunning president really left a huge (and memorable, definitely won’t be forgetting anytime soon) impression on him.  

 

The bell rang, signalling the beginning of the next lesson and reminded Furihata he still had to survive the rest of the day. He let out a groan and let his head collapse on the table, waiting for the following lesson to come and pass without too much of a negative hitch. 

 

_ What a  _ **_great_ ** _ first day.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday indigoandazure! Can't complain about nothing coming out on your birthday now, can you? 
> 
> Kudos to anyone who made it this far. This was written as a birthday present and was originally going to be a one-shot but I suck at having a word limit. Hopefully, I can get the next chapter up within two weeks and not be one of those authors who abandon their work. No promises though since I actually lean towards AkaKuro more but my gift was my pain to write a notp that my friend ships. Thankfully, during the course of writing this, I grew to appreciate AkaFuri (upgraded from: "this ship shall perish and should've sunk along side the Titanic," to, " yeah, they are okay and kinda cute") and it wouldn't interfere with the progress of the story. 
> 
> Thanks to anyone who took their time to read this. If you find any mistakes feel free to comment and I do my best to fix it.


	2. Way out of League

“Hey guys,” Furihata called out to grab the attention of his new friends.

 

It had been a week since Furihata transferred over. The first day was a bit awkward since he knew no one at all. Thankfully, two of his classmates took pity on him and decided to invite him to lunch with them. By the time lunch was over, they became such close friends you wouldn't even have noticed that Furihata just met them today. All it took was an unplanned visit to Furihata's home for his parents to basically adopt his two new friends.

 

Kawahara Koichi, was the one who began the conversation. He was very straightforward with his introduction by recounting his entire childhood before he proceeded to pester Furihata about his in demand he knows more about him. Kawahara, determined and doesn't have the meaning of 'no' in his dictionary, made Furihata spill the beans on his entire childhood before they even began to touch their food.

 

Fukuda Hiroshi, calmer and less insistent, was the other friend he made that day. He stopped Kawahara from throwing anymore personal questions that he felt uncomfortable answering at him ( which he was extremely thankful for). Furihata was eased into the trio and school thanks to him and his skillful way of managing to keep the conversation light and never letting the conversation drop into a cold freeze.         

 

When he was sure he had their full attention, he continued. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” a pause as he took in a month full of juice. “ What’s the deal with the president? I ran into him the other day and he wasn't like a normal highschooler. Like, he was a bit too intense if you know what I mean. Also, isn’t he kind of short to be an upperclassmen?”

 

Fukuda and Kawahara gave each other a look before bursting out laughing. Furihata felt a slight flush of heat on his cheeks because of his friends’ laughter. He retraced the conversation to find any faults or possible humour he might have missed but ended up with none. His friends only seized the laughter after they saw the confused look on Furihata and understood that he was ignorant of the actual facts.

 

“You mean you actually don’t know?” Fukuda asked.

 

“If I did then I wouldn’t have the need to ask you guys, right?” Furihata responded with a question. 

 

That effectively shut Fukuda up. Kawahara took charge of the conversation not wanting to steer away from it any longer nor to upset their friend.

 

“You see, Akashi Seijurou, is not like the average highschooler . He came from an extremely distinguished family, ‘The Crimson Corp’. He’s the heir. You should know them. They are everywhere,” Kawahara stated, his face completely serious lacking any tone of humour. 

 

Furihata gulped. He had, in fact, heard about the group and their terrifying ability to dispose of their obstacles during the conquering of the business industry. They could shut down any business or company they deem useless or a bother by the next day. No one dares to oppose them fearing for their lives. It only made sense the president was the heir; the same aura was tailored into a perfectly fitted coat for him. Unapproachable. Unaposable.

 

“I understand this now but I don’t get what was so funny,” Furihata asked brows positioned in a thinking manner.

 

“Oh. ‘Cause president’s a first year. Same as us. Not a upperclassman like you thought he was,” Fukuda said clearing up the misunderstanding.

 

Furihata’s eyes snapped open wide in shock, his jaw fell wide open luckily without spilling chunks of his food. How was that possible? He was the student council president despite being a first year!? Furihata didn’t even know that was possible. He assumed only the higher grade levels received the job as they were older and the teachers knew them longer but he guessed Akashi had them all beat (which wasn’t that surprising anymore after the whole Crimson Corp. thing).

 

The new discovery made Furihata feel a different emotional towards the president. Not the fear he got from their first meeting. Not the daze at how perfect he was, ~~undeniably attractive and good looking,~~  rather, he felt inspired. Admiration for how someone his age could achieve this. With the new pieces of information creating a change within his mind, all thoughts about lunch was abandoned. He used this spur-of-the-moment thinking to make a rash decision.

 

_He was going to join the basketball team._

 

 

_**********_

 

Furihata realized wanting to join was actually a lot harder than he originally thought. In middle school, he was considered one of the better players on the team. He only gave up in high school because he felt the workload would’ve increased leaving him no time for sports. Deciding this was not the case, he sought out to join the team at this school. However, middle school standards were not the same as high school. Here he had the skill of a newbie- not even a newbie. Kise Ryouta, a model who began started playing this year, was better than most of the seniors. He quickly rose through the ranks and made it to first string within half a year.

 

Furihata, however, was no Kise. He wasn’t some prodigy who was super amazing. He was a guy with three years of basketball experience on the basics that wouldn’t help in him making it far within the team. Part of the reason why it might seem so hard to fit in was because he transferred midway; he knew that was just an excuse he could use to drop any blame for his own incompetence. It was because he wasn’t skilled enough, because he neglected practice in the past. He was naive enough to believe he could just jump back into the world of basketball and become the best without any hard work. He was wrong and he’ll be sure to work extra hard to atone for the mistaken ideal.

 

Which was why, today, he was attending a weekend-long training camp for the third strings. The goal was for them to blossom into somewhat dangerous, spike-covered flora in a garden already filled with exotic, unbeatable flowers. He had the intention of growing his own sets of thorns at this camp as well as catching up to the second strings; the first stringers were unbelieve apparently, according to the other players. So far, he hadn't met any of them due to the separated gyms for the higher level first strings and the remainder of the team.

 

“Furihata,” Fukuda gave him a slight nudge as he fell in line beside him. “Did you hear? About how our captain is personally leading the camp along with a selected few from the first strings,” he asked the nervous brunette beside him. “Mhm! I’m surprised he took time out of his tight packed schedules to care about us nobodies,” Kawahara interjected.

 

Furihata was a bit left in the dark. He heard his teammates mention how amazing the first stringers were, especially the captain, but none of them bothered to reveal any names except for Kise Ryouta who was already famous and known. It was too late now for Furihata to speak up, the window of opportunity was closed the moment he pretended to know and fumbled his way through their previous conversations not wanting to look like an ignorant idiot. Why he did it? He’d never understand. It was a spur of the moment thing, where his mouth was taken over by  his heart and his sense of need to belong, rather than his brain and common sense that his friends wouldn’t leave him if he didn’t know these things. Instead, they would’ve helped him and this whole abomination would have been avoided. Now, he risked being a bigger idiot, not just in front of his friends, but the rest of the third strings and more importantly the first strings; the captain.

 

His stomach ached at the thought of his mess up. He found himself having another inner turmoil within his mind; the billionth one in the past week. Furihata found that they started since his move here; the change of surroundings probably caused the stress. Of course, a certain red head was also the cause, since a fair amount of the turmoil were triggered by think about him.

 

Furihata knew it was hopeless, chasing after the fading image of scarlet in his mind. Heck, they could go the rest of their high school lives without ever meeting again due to their differences. Yet, he couldn’t comprehend what element is pulling him in. Akashi was an enigma that Furihata haven’t seen nearly enough to unravel, however, he feels like he knows just the right amount to keep pursuing after in hope of finally reaching the end one day on this eternal puzzle. Like Pandora, he is willing to open the jar, just to get a glimpse of him no matter the end result.

 

“Excuse me,” a voice at the front called and everyone’s attention zoomed onto the newcomer. With Furihata’s trance ending, he scanned the room to asset the current situation. The others looked as lost as he was as to how the person in front of them reached that destination without anyone noticing.

 

Just then, four people to the right from him, someone raised their hand to propose a question, which was accepted by the teal haired teen (Furihata wondered if the shade was natural or dyed; he went with the latter option).

 

“Umm, no offence but who are you? You don’t exactly look like a basketball player, nor have we ever seen you before. And when did you get here?”

 

He was right. The person standing in front of him didn’t exactly look or fit the role of a basketball player due to the lanky frame and lack of muscles. In other words, he looked like Furihata and couldn’t be anything more than a second string; that was being generous. But he was wearing their team’s uniform. Then brought the other question of what he was doing there, in front of the room full of people ready to train when the camp was about to begin any moment now.

 

“To answer your questions,” the person at the front resumed speaking again with Furihata offering him his fullest undivided attention.“ I was here since the very beginning and I’ve been checking off your names as you entered, I just wasn’t noticed. My name is Kuroko Tetsuya, nice to meet you, err, well, some of you as I have classes with quite a lot of you. I hope we will learn a lot together today. I, along with the other first string members, will try our hardest to help you improve. Hopefully, by the end of this camp, you will all be able to join the second strings and maybe even the first strings. Ah, before I was trying to say I’ve received a call from the captain and the other instructors. They should be arriving soon.”

 

As if a cue was received, new voices from the back of the room were heard, effectively turning the spotlight to the new arrivals at the gym.

 

“Oi, Tetsu, sorry we’re late. Hope you didn’t wait long,” a dark haired man approached the front, stopped, and gave the teal headed teen a fist bump.

 

The others trailing behind him also had unusual hair colours. Furihata believed they had enough colours to paint a rainbow, skipping orange since he didn’t spot a ginger among the group. There was a bright, eye-catching (and blinding) yellow, who he recognized was Kise Ryouta from the magazines his female classmates showed him. Behind him was a grassy green, a peachy pink, a flower-like violet-purple, and a fiery red.

  
Furihata’s breath hitched at the sight of the familiar shade of crimson, the very same shade that had been intruding his mind - never quite leaving it since his first encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! As promised I managed to upload this within two weeks ( huge accomplishment since procrastinating is something I excel at). I think the updating schedule will be once every week (if I remember and finish on time) where Thursday is the new update. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for the comments, bookmarking, and kudos. Literally expected none of those except for ones from my irl friends. Honestly so thankful for the positive feedback. I've never been more motivated to continue something. Ever (except for anime/manga cause c'mon that's life). 
> 
> Any mistakes you find within the fic, you can leave a comment and I'll try to edit it. Thanks again guys! Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up next Thursday.


	3. The Generation of Miracles ( aka the Generation of Morons)

Akashi Seijurou, the perfect first-year student council president, was standing right before him in all his glory. He gave the team a quick scan; seeing deep within everyone as if he could tell the ticks of everyone in this room just by a glance. As soon as he made eye contact with Furihata, his eyebrows rose a slightly, unnoticable to everyone else kind of bit (unless you were like Furihata who kept his unwavering stare on him) that only lasted seconds before his eyes tracked down a new target like the ever cunning predator that he was.  

 

Furihata’s heart felt a little pang. He didn’t know what he expected. Of course he wouldn’t receive any special greeting or acknowledgement; he probably won’t  even be remembered. This made him a bit mad. No anger was directed at the president- it was not his fault. Instead, he was mad at himself; he dug himself his own pit to jump in. He had his hopes up, thought their next meeting would result in them being closer, friends maybe. However, he did not involve reality within his fantasy; thus, fantasy it stays. He was just a tiny fragment of broken glass that pieced together Akashi’s mirror of memory. Nothing more. 

 

A few moments later, after the intimidating inspection was over, the camp officially began. 

 

As expected, the leader of the introduction was none other than Akashi Seijurou. He began by stating the purpose of the training camp and the different goals or benchmarks the athletes needed to meet in order for them to rise in their rankings and ascend to second string (first string comes much later). Akashi also described their schedule, both the sleeping and meal arranges as well as the rules for the following two days. 

 

“Now, is everyone clear on the rules?” Akashi asked and everyone in the room nodded to show their understanding. “ Good,” Akashi returned with a nod.“ I see that everyone is in proper clothing and ready to begin,” Akashi commented. Furihata could have sworn his comment was directed at him but couldn’t bring his eyes to make contact with the crimson orbs in fear of being lured in by them like sirens do to sailors. He would be digging himself his own grave by having to explain his staring when he was caught. Focusing his eyes on the neck view and below, he concentrated on blocking out the unnecessary thought and getting through this hell like train camp alive (he wasn’t sure he whether or not he can handle a ten kilometre run twice a day). 

 

“ Before we begin the warm-ups, I thought it would be a good idea for us to introduce ourselves, seeing as we barely interacted with each other since the first couple of weeks from the beginning of the year due to the separation in levels. As you all know, I’m Akashi Seijurou, your student council president as well as your captain for the basketball team upon captain Nijimura’s resignation two months ago.” 

 

Of course Akashi turned out to be the captain. He had to dominate everything he does, no matter the range or obscurity or even weirdness the activity displayed. He seemed like the type who wouldn’t take no for an answer and would have everything come naturally for him . Furihata couldn’t help but be jealous over those type of people, born with talent but still works hard making it almost impossible for those who lack the talent to catch up.  

 

“Before we arrived,” Akashi continued, “I believe you were introduced to Tetsuya. Kuroko Tetsuya, first-year, is part of our team on the first string.” 

 

With that sentence, confusion sprout around the room. Why would someone who seem so average (and a first-year nonetheless) make it on the national winning team? Nobody even noticed the poor guy because he was so plain it seemed like he was non-existent.  

 

Just then, either someone who was as brave as a Gryffindor or as suicidal as Eren Jaeger (excuse my trashness), dared to question why Kuroko Tetsuya was on the team. 

 

Akashi’s response was not sending them a death glare. It was a million times more terrifying than a glare could ever be. A calm smile, making anyone petrified with direct eye contact was the reaction by the absolute emperor. Shivers were sent down everyone’s backs and seemingly everyone had a nervous  expression from the smile (except for the rainbow-coloured hair people standing at the front who were spare). 

 

In the most bone-chilling tone they’ve ever heard, Akashi spoke. “ Do you all think anyone of us here, standing before you, do not belong to the first string the former captain and I handpicked together out of a hundred of you?” he sent a glance at everyone within the room.

 

“Think of your skills and abilities. Does outward appearance matter in a sport fought using wits, strategy, teamwork, speed and strength? None of the categories I’ve listed require your appearance to be taken account. Ever heard of the phrase: ‘looks can be deceiving?’ I believe all of you have potential, thus why I held this camp, to bring forth your hidden abilities,” everyone stood up a bit straighter at this; they looked like they were male peacocks in an attempt to lure females like they would the captain. The captain simply ignored them and continued on with his lecture. 

 

“If you are judging Tetsuya, why not have a look at yourself. What does he lack that you have? Why didn’t we choose you if you are seemingly so ‘appealing’ with your appearance apparently? Kuroko Tetsuya fought hard through tears and sweat to get his spot on the team and I do not condone any doubt or disagreement with this decision. If you want his spot, you would have to work twice or thrice as hard as he did and take it from him, if you have the skills to do so.” 

 

Silence. Everyone was prepared for a non-existing bomb to detonate and blow everything into smithereens. Tension within the room was so thick even a sharpen knife wouldn’t be enough to cut through; a chainsaw had to be brought out.

 

This was put to an end by the dark horse of this situation, the man of the talk himself. “Akashi-kun, I think you scared them too much. It’s fine if they think that way about me, as long as they understand in the end it’s okay. Besides, their opinion is exactly what gives us an advantage in games. Thank you but I don’t mind,” Kuroko said giving Akashi a reassuring nod. 

 

Akashi gave a sigh seeing Kuroko’s nod. In return, he gave a tender-motherlike smile; a leader of the pack looking out for a young pup.  Quickly, his face turned to a stern look once more as he looked at the rest of the room. In that moment, everyone felt it was much easier to breathe and everyone clung tightly to that oxygen.

 

“Tetsu-kun,” the pink haired lady of the group called out. “ I’m so sorry for making you take over!” She did a quick bow and looked really apologetic. 

 

“Ah, it’s not a bother at all. I was going to come earlier anyways,” Kuroko guaranteed. 

 

“Dai-chan,” the pink head whined. “ It’s your fault for making us late and having Tetsu-kun wait here by himself. You knew I had to come earlier to take attendance, yet you still stopped by the convenient store to buy that pervy magazine,” she huffed. 

 

“My bad,” the navy blue male brushed off with a shrug.

 

“Oha Asa said today’s lucky item for Virgos is a magazine. I respect Aomine’s choice,” the green haired bespectacled male said while pulling out a roll of thread from his pocket.  

 

“Midorimacchi, what are you holding?” the blond asked. 

 

“Cancer’s luck is the worst today so a roll of thread is needed to make up for the lack of it,” he adjusted his glasses. 

 

“Minechin, did you buy anything to eat?” the purple giant asked, munching away at his bag of chips. 

 

“Guys, we have a training camp to hold,” the sole female of the group reminded the rest.

 

The spell was broken. The group realized for the first time, they weren’t at their private gym in the middle of a practice. They were teachers today, they needed to act their role. They kept silent and looked at the captain for further instructions. 

 

“Proceeding from where we left off,” Akashi captured everyone’s attention once more. When he was sure he had everyone’s ears, he continued. “That was Kuroko Tetsuya, one of the people in charge of observing your skills. He will report his findings to me and with that information, I will decide what areas you should be focusing more on. For this reason, he will not be one of the mentors in charge of teaching you.” 

 

No one dared utter another word back for fear of their lives. 

 

“Next, I would like to introduce Momoi Satsuki,” the pinklette stepped forward and flashed a smile (a warm smile opposed to Akashi’s cold one). 

 

“Hi everyone! I hope you will learn a lot from this camp and improve enough to join the second string. I look forward to working with all of you,” a bow followed the introduction. 

 

“Satsuki, our manager, will also be observing you. She can accurately predict what your improvements will be and how to further your skills.” 

 

Some stared at her in awe, not used to having such a beautiful manager. Others stared in admiration for her skill and hope they could improve with her help.

 

“Oi! If you idiots are done staring, get your heads back into the game and listen to the captain,” an irritated growl sounded. 

 

“That,” Akashi gestured towards the dark haired man, “ was Aomine Daiki. He will be in charge of improving your speed. Daiki is also a valuable player. His playing style has evolved from years of playing street basketball when he was younger. Thus, if you have any concerns with breaking away from your defender, he is the best person to consult with as his fakes and reflexes are quite effective for breakaways.” 

 

The dark haired man gave the third strings a smirk at his description. He lost interest seconds later, preferring to turn his glance towards the blond beside him. Once they made eye contact, he sent him a raised eyebrow; an unspoken challenge for the blond to receive more praise. The blond in return flickered a determined look back, confident in his abilities. 

 

“ Ahem,” the scarlet haired captain cleared his throat to alert the presences of everyone else to his fellow teammates.

 

The two, a bit startled, jumped a little before casually brushing it off and turned their focus to their commander.

“ Moving on. We have Kise Ryouta. I’m sure everyone heard about him, or at least the squeals of his fangirls,” said blond proceed to flash a bright smile towards the crowd and unintentionally (or intentionally) hindered them with temporary blindness. 

 

“ His job on the team is to lead you through demonstrations as well as drills to further your endurance. He is a part-time model who joined the team this year like some of you and made it to the top within months. However, unlike the most of you, he had zero to no previous basketball experience until this year, which is quite remarkable. Ryouta will be free for anyone with questions and should serve you as a model (no pun intended) or a guide to strive towards.” 

 

This time, it was the blonde’s turn to send a look at the man with navy blue hair. ‘Did you hear that?’ his eyes seemed to advocate while the other man just gave a childish click of the tongue before breaking eye contact. Honestly, these two were making the rest of the team feel awkward for third wheeling. Furihata especially struggled a bit to stop staring at the soon-would-be-coaches and direct his brain to cease his overactive imagination looking for subtext when this is about real life .    

 

The tension seemed to quiet down once the crimson emperor continued ignoring the exchange as if it was a normal everyday occurrence (which it was for the two ‘rivals’).  

 

“ Midorima Shintaro, as you can infer from the name, is the bespectacled one holding a roll of thread,” the attention was shifted to the green haired man who pushed his glasses up with his perfectly taped fingers.“ Shintaro, my vice president, will handle any shooting difficulties you might have. He is skilled in long-distance shots and his game records remain clean with every basket never missed its mark, making up a large proportion of our scores. Working with him is necessary to increase your aim and accuracy.” The captain and his vice gave each other a nod, a sign that the latter didn’t have anything else to add. 

 

“ Last but not least, the tallest of our group is Murasakibara Atsushi.” The purple giant gave the group an effortless glance, never stopping in the devouring  of his bag of crisps. His height was a factor that intimidated Furihata and the rest of the third stringers. 

 

“Atsushi’s height gives him a huge advantage in his role as a defender. There are many things you could learn about blocking from him during this camp,” the red head captain said. 

 

“Aka-chin, are we done yet? I want to get some maiubo.” Murasakibara said finishing the last of his chips. 

 

“Yeah, I also want to take a break. I haven’t had time to look over the new magazine yet. Horihata Mai is looking prettier and prettier with every page,” Aomine mumbled while flipping through the magazine anyways. 

 

“Aominecchi!” “Dai-chan” Kise and Momoi both cried out in unison, scolding the dark haired teen. 

 

“We just got here,” Momoi commented while shaking her head in disapproval. “I don’t think we should be asking for a break when we barely did any coaching.” 

 

“Besides,” the blond interjected. “You promised me a one-on-one, Aominecchi!” Kise’s face morphed into a stern frown at the possibility of having his much anticipated match be halted. 

 

“We can do that later,” Aomine gave a lazy shrug. 

 

“Ahem,” Midorima gave an eye roll at his fellow teammates. “The captain never agreed to anything and as the vice-captain, I certainly will not permit this unneeded break.” 

 

At the mention of their red emperor, everyone glanced to the crimson haired leader prepared to meet a stone-cold face with silent rage put on display. As always, they were never correct with their unpredictable captain; the dark horse of the team might also be part of the equation too. 

 

In a corner, they found the redhead and teal head wrapped inside an impenetrable barrier; just the two with nothing getting in between them. Furihata felt a slight tug at his heart and a little fumble in his stomach; possible jealousy was an explanation. Furihata just shoved that thought off a cliff hoping the impact from the drop would be enough to vanquish it forever. With his luck however, it would probably resurface a couple minutes later if they two continue to be so sickening.

 

The two stayed in that state without any interruptions. Even the players from the first string regarded the idea of disrupting their immersed captain as a fool’s death wish and only acted upon if they sought a painful end. Thus, a silent unspoken agreement was established within the room to wait patiently for one of the two to notice and free them of the orderly chaos beginning to arise from having received no further instructions. 

 

Honestly, Furihata wasn’t sure about what he was triggered over. The others don’t see a problem with this (besides the uncertainty of how to proceed with the training camp) so he shouldn’t either. The two were only in deep conversation, submerged in a discussion of training routines and possible ways to divide the different members assigning them to areas of their strengths. There wasn’t any deeper meaning to it and it was fairly innocent. 

 

Still, that stinging wouldn’t go away. It grew. With every approving smile Akashi sent Kuroko, a needle was added to the pin cushion. Whenever their hands accidentally brush together in a heated finger battle of pointing on the deadly battlefield, the clipboard, he choked down a bitter frown. 

 

It wasn’t the physical contact between the two that generates the green-eyed-monster per se. He just hated the way Akashi interacts Kuroko. With his other teammates, Akashi seemed less caring in a way, more distant. With Kuroko, he was natural with his fake-professional smile out of the way to make space for his real one; something he so far only showed the teal haired member. Regardless of how minuscule the smile was, the existence bothered him. The affection shown using that vessel twisted his guts even more, leaving lingering traces of poison in his mouth he desperately tried to rid of. 

 

 He wasn’t jealous of Kuroko (or so he denied) but rather how he was allowed in Akashi’s inner circle. Granted this was the second time he was meeting Akashi but the pull towards him was undeniable and he wished for them to become friends, or acquaintances at least. 

 

“I was debating on whether or not they could handle the regular second string training or if they should build up to….” Akashi trailed off when he noticed the hawk-like stares. 

 

“Akashi-kun?” Kuroko asked noticing the abrupt stop of the calming voice. His eyes first flickered to the redhead, trying to grasp what caused this. With a confused expression seeping through his features, he shifted perspectives to see what his captain was looking at before reaching his own conclusions. 

 

Eternities seemed to come and go, yet, the tense eye contacts never seemed to shatter. This was one of those situations where it should be handled like fragile glass or chucking a hammer at it would fix anything dysfunctional in the first place.

 

“Err, I assumed everyone was going to use this time to familiarize themselves with the coaches.” Apparently, the second option was the most appealing to Akashi. 

 

The pregnant freeze of noises seemed to still cover the room with its frost, not allowing the tension to melt away.   

 

Luckily, a sudden mumble of remembrance from the shadow set off the gears of a once broken clock.

 

“Ah, Akashi-kun you didn’t explain what you were in charge of yet,” Kuroko recalled. 

 

“Of course,” Akashi’s eyes slightly lit up at the mention, clearly expressing the thankfulness of having a gateway to force the conversation to enter. “I will oversee your training and step in wherever and whenever it requires me to. You ask me anything you do not understand or receive help for areas in which you struggle in. That concludes our introduction to the training camp and as soon as everyone is sorted into groups we may proceed.”

 

Seconds later the pink haired manager snapped out of her trance and resumed her duty. She fumbled a bit with the list she was holding but succeed in regaining her composure and steadied her voice to rattle off different groups and their members.

 

Picking up his name from the stream of others, Furihata made his way to the south corner where the group was positioned. He was joined by others- all fairly average looking like he was- before their assigned coach at the station made his way over. Hearing the crunching of cookies being devoured, he dreaded what’s to come in the training camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I think the updating schedule will be once every week (if I remember and finish on time) where Thursday is the new update."   
> Ahahahahaha...(・_・;) 
> 
> The new routine is now Saturday or Sunday because I would have the whole weekend to do homework instead of the few hours I have on a school night ( even though I still didn't do Geo yet ;-;). Also recently started watching this K-drama where Baekhyun was an actor and started going down the K-hole ( thank you Dan for providing us with this beautiful description of K-pop). 
> 
> BIG BIG THANKS TO QIKDAELUN !!!!!! LIKE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME EDIT!!!!! (o_ _)ﾉ彡☆ Without their help, I wouldn't be able to sit here at 8 in the morning rushing this. 
> 
> Also huge thanks to people who leave behind Kudos, comments, bookmarks or just plain being there to read ( I also stalk fics, so no judgement from me)!!!! Have a nice week!


	4. Warning : Curry may cause death

Every inch of Furihata’s body ached by the time food was being passed around.

 

The training wasn’t hard, it was hellish. To whomever invented that word, they may need to invent another. Calling it hellish was unfitting- an understatement of all understatements- unable to capture the true essence of the tortuous training.

 

The ‘warm-ups’ were double their regular training from junior high when Furihata was still part of the regular team. Surely, within five minutes, everyone around the gymnasium were bent over practically snorting the oxygen like their lives depended on it (and it did).

 

The group of males (plus one female) with exoticly coloured hair were excluded from the previous observation. Oppositely, they (the ones who’ve actively moved) barely broke a sweat and looked ready for a round two.

 

The bitter tingle arose once more when Furihata caught a glimpse of the captain and shadow huddled together (awfully close) analysing data (what he assumed was data) during his quick breather. He didn’t get a chance of dwelling on the thought any further as he was rushed in yet another tiresome drill.

 

To sum it up, his day was a rollercoaster ride. He went from his highest point to lowest in matter of seconds. It was certainly a pleasant surprise to find out his target of a potential crush (he stopped denying it the seventh time he caught himself making doe eyes at the captain during his breaks) was his team captain. However, that seemed like the worst thing to possibly occur in his life once he realized how horrible he was at basketball and so completely inferior as a third string.  

 

Letting out a sigh for the nth time today, Furihata grabbed spoon full of food, not bothering to check what it was, and shoved it into his mouth. Although he was thankful for any type of food he received at this point of exhaustion, he couldn’t help but gag a little when his tastebuds managed to process the food.

 

Turning to his friends, their shared look communicated the universal message: this food tastes like crap. The three moved in unison to shove the plate of curry-coated rice as far away from them as possible without the plate slipping over the edge.

 

They would throw out the plate entirely, if not for the protesting of their stomachs grumbling in demand of food. The three knew, eventually, the natural desire to fill the void in their body would conquer the second-guessing of consuming the meal; forcing them to finish what they started.  

 

“Oi! Everyone listen up!” Aomine shouted from the table situated in the middle of the room where the first strings gathered in order to conduct the group of worn-down teens.  

 

Obeying the instruction like marionettes having their strings pulled, all eyes turned to the direction of the voice. Chattering stopped with the occasional utensils clinking against plates by being abruptly dropped. The room was silenced except for that one athlete choking on his food startled by the sudden command.

 

“Look everyone,” Kise began when Aomine successfully gained everyone’s attention. “ Since Momocchi is out of the room I feel like we should have this talk now…” the blond trailed off unsure of how to continue.

 

“We all know Satsuki’s not the best cook,” Aomine resumed. Kise sent him a thankful look at which he replied with a nod. “ But she spent a lot of time and effort in practicing to make this meal for everyone, that idiot. So even though we all know this food is crap, we need to finish it.”

 

“What Daiki meant to say,” Akashi interject, “ was this food prepared by our lovely manager. It should not be wasted and it is expected of everyone to rejuvenate themselves for the training scheduled for tomorrow by eating this nutritious meal.” Although the captain's words were positive, you could clearly see his wavering smile and gag he was holding back.  

 

Everyone felt uneasy. No one wanted to disappoint the first string’s manager. Not finishing the food might turn out to be the tiny detail that costed them a chance and a spot. Still. The food was becoming less appealing by the second. Various noises sounded in protest across the room ranging from defeated sighs and childish whining of how they don’t want to.

 

“Osu!”

 

A greeting sounded out from doorway leading into the room. A brunette popped her head in quickly scanning the area before stepping in.

 

Recognition met with Furihata’s -along with everyone else’s- mind as the attention was stolen by the newcomer.

 

This brunette was none other than the coach of the third and second strings (consultant for the firsts), Aida Riko.

 

Everyone from the third strings were terrified of the woman. How could you not be after you saw her punishments/penalties if mistakes were ever made during practise. A collective shiver went down their backs as they recalled every rumour spoken about her. Furihata was so very under prepare the first day at practise despite all the warnings given by his friends. Four hours of shooting practise until she deemed you worthy was enough to make you listen to her every command.

 

The coach’s presences ignited sparks counting down to detonation for the petrified third strings. Adding her into the equation made this whole situation unsolvable. Noticing the stares she received, she did a little wave at everyone before sauntering her way to the table in the middle occupied by their leaders.  

 

“Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” she blocked out the jaws-dropping and eyes-bulging at the sight of her.

 

“Of course not Riko,” the captain responded. “ You are welcome anytime to monitor the progress of the players.”

 

“Hmm. I do hope so. After all, I think they will grow a bit wild without me around to keep them on a leash.”

 

Awkward laughter spread across the room as well as sudden clearing of throats.‘ You are the best, coach!’ was squeaked out of pure panic; no one could track down the source nor did anyone wanted to admit to sputtering out such a thing.

 

Just then, the pink haired manager returned to the room carrying another tray of food for the players to devour ( it seemed like dessert this time).

 

“Ah! Riko! What are you doing here!?” Momoi excited skipped to the side of the coach. “ Cookie?” she offered whilst setting the tray (filled with the cause of the third stringers’ death) down alongside the plates of curry-coated rice, incase anyone wanted a second-helping ( a question with a definite answer).

 

“I’m fine,” the brunette responded. “ What’s with everyone questioning my right to be here today? Can’t I just drop by to visit my favourite group of trainees?”

 

“Sorry,” Momoi said. “ I was just surprised to see you. Oh, by the way, thank you so much for helping me cook the curry earlier,” the manager quickly added in.

 

“No problem!”

 

At the sudden mention of the curry, everyone’s face paled. It was an amusing sight to see a horde of high schoolers’ faces painted ghostly white and the fault falling on one fateful inedible item, curry.

 

It was one thing knowing the horrid dish was made by their newfound goddess/unattainable manager. Knowing it was the child of that said idol and their demon coach completely destroyed any trace of appetite they had left. The curry was dead to them. It was the creation of the devil (which was accurate in this case). All eyes lingered on the two smiling, chattering females; stalking- awaiting for the perfect moment to strike. As soon as the two exit this room, they were going to perform a coup de grâce on the curry and let the vile thing die in bliss knowing it wasn’t the cause of death for anyone that night.

 

As if the coach had intercepted their shared telepathic chant of ‘destroy the curry’, she halted mid laugh and gave the room a scan. She clicked her tongue to show her dissatisfaction at the feedback she received. A murderous smile grew on her face.

 

“Nee, why isn’t everybody eating?” Riko asked innocently, head tilted to the side in an attempt to be cute. “ Ever since I came in, I’ve notice the food was barely touched. You wouldn’t want to waste hours of my and Momoi-san’s hard work, do you?” her voice turning edgy at certain points in the sentence.

 

Plates were scraped across the table in a rushed manner to bring the curry close to their mouths.The spoons were used to shovel chunks of the white mountain and force it down their throats. Coughs erupted in the room when multiple people choked, tears forming in the corners of their eyes as they collapsed.

 

Furihata was fiddling with a spoon-full of rice ready to be deposited in the bank of his stomach. Avoiding the wrath of the coach was enough motivation to coax anyone into doing deeds such as skydiving directly in the depths of hell or deep sea swimming without an oxygen tank whilst being chased by stingrays. It was either the curry or death, no other option. With every tick and tock being sounded, more beads of sweat were dripping down his cheeks. Not wanting to second guess any longer, he shoved the bite of food in his mouth.

 

The moment the food made contact with his tongue, he felt a burning sensation. As if the curry awaken from the presence of the creators, it turned from the previous monstrosity to a flavour even more revolting and vile tasting if possible ( anything is possible when the coach is involved).

 

Before, it was bland and foul tasting with the chunks shaped in different sizes making the texture unique and undesirable. The new flavour once the curry was given time to settle was much, much worse. The curry mingled with the rice disrupting the natural sweetness of grain (or lack of it in this case) and instead fused together the heavily (and wrongly) spiced sauce with the clumps of rice grouped together. The rice, sticking to each other, somehow transformed from the soft, easily-digestible delicacy into rock-hard, crack-your-teeth, army-ration that’s been left over for centuries.

 

Usually, when nasty food is swallowed, the main source of discomfort is thrown into the pits of your stomach leaving behind a disgusting aftertaste. Nothing was as bad as having the original article of food still in your mouth. The exact opposite happened for Furihata.

 

His belief that the burning would arrest once the bite of food was forced down was proven to be wrong. The heat radiated from the spicy food (another thing the curry went wrong with, it was supposed to be mildly spiced and tailored to an adequate degree of burning, not burning hot with an erupting volcano of flavours) did not dispel once it was sent down the tunnel. Instead, the flow reversed and bolted straight up to Furihata’s head before spreading across his body. He feel lightheaded; it was suddenly harder to breathe.

 

Many things began happening at once. For one, he flopped down to the floor like a gaping fish thrown onto land, just flipping a few times before turning went still. His vision blurred as if someone accidently hit unfocus on the camera during a recording of a video. He vaguely remembered his friends calling out to him, though the sound quality was muffled like earmuffs were worn to block out any unwanted sounds from the outside world. Eventually, he gave into the black hole draining his energy, ripping any ounce of defiance from his mind. He was submerged in a quiet, pitch-black void unable to resist its siren-like powers of persuasion.   

  
  
  
  


    

 

_Sometime during his dream, he travelled down a path leading away from the shadowy corridor to a blinding white hallway. With every step he took, the darkness parted, retreating to make way for the glowing light, growing brighter and brighter as he walked further and further. When he reached a point where the light was at its brightest peak, it shimmered and died down to reveal a gigantic door._

 

_Strange. Who knew reading ‘Alice in Wonderland’ for an english assignment would play such a prominent role in melding his dream. Now, if only he could find a table with the cookie and elixir or have the white bunny race by to fast-forward the plot._

 

_That didn’t happen. What did though, was unexpected. From the other side of the door, a discussion could be heard. He pressed his ear against the iron wall in hopes getting a better reception. Faint arguing and silent screams were picked up but the exact words cannot be interpreted. All of a sudden, the door swung inwards, propelled forward by the gentle pressure Furihata displayed. The unexpected movement surprised Furihata. With the abrupt change, he lost his footing and stumbled ahead._

 

  Alive. He wasn’t sure what exactly took place but he was fine now ( as fine as anyone could be with a pounding headache). Reluctantly, he opened his eyes but quickly clamped them shut at once when glaring light was forced into his vision. He let out a slight groan before trying to open them again, this time succeeding.

 

He was in a bed. Wasn’t he suppose to be at a training camp yesterday? What was he doing here on a bed? The scenery also looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t recall where. He slowly turned his throbbing head towards the direction of voices.

 

It was then that someone had heard or noticed his movements, drawing the group of voices’ attention and thrusting it at Furihata.

 

“Everyone, I think he’s awake,” the teal of the group pointed out.

 

The other three within the quartet stopped their discussion in order to get a  better look at Furihata. Meanwhile, Furihata froze like a deer caught in taillights. Where was he and what was he doing here with four members of the first string players!?

 

The first to approach him was their pink haired manager with a look of guilt on her face. She fiddled with her hands as she struggled to replace the look of shame plastered on her face into a brighter, much more upbeat smile.

 

“Um... Are you okay now?” she asked nervously.

 

Furihata paused for a bit, unsure of how to answer. First of all, what happened to make them pay special attention to him? Deciding he should just answer the question now and be confused/dazed later, he switched on an awkward smile.

 

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” he added a nod to the respond and inwardly cringed at his social skills that weren’t enough to last this encounter.

 

The room was silent for a moment. Furihata turned the gears in his mind, bustling to find a way to end the tension and the uneasiness he felt while being so close to the group of four. He made a quick wish in his head for someone to put him out of his misery. Unexpectedly, Momoi did.

 

“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed while bowing her head down low. “It’s my fault that you’re in this situation,” she admitted looking close to tears. “I didn’t think my curry would be so strong...I put way too many combinations of spices in there…” she trailed off mumbling about how she shouldn’t have attempted the creation of the curry in the first place. “It’s my fault. My cooking made you sick. I should have practised a bit more. I-”

 

“It’s not your fault!” Furihata cut her off. “Er, I meant…” he didn’t have enough confidence to stare directly at the pink head settling with watching his own thumbs being fumbled and fidgeted with. “Since little I was weak to spicy food. It’s not your fault my stomach and tastebuds are so weak. In fact, thank you for cooking for everyone. Such a huge portion of food must be hard to prepare. Honestly, you aren’t a bad cook. You just need a bit more practice…”

 

Furihata looked up at this moment to face Momoi with a small smile spreading across her face while she brushed away some tears escaping the broken dam.

 

“Ah! Sorry! Did I make you cry? I’m sorry!” Furihata said with panic clearly evident within his voice.

 

“No, of course not!” Momoi quickly reassured the teen. “ These are just tear of joy. Ha. You were so sweet and nice. I couldn’t keep it in and I-” a sob she was keeping in came out; cutting her off.

 

“Ahaha… Sorry for causing any form of trouble by falling ill. Um, if you don’t mind me asking...Why did I become unconscious?”

 

“ Vasovagal syncope,” a new voice contributed to the conversation.

 

The bespectacled green haired boy  began explaining the symptoms and cause of the phenomenon. Apparently, due to the shock of digesting the curry, it caused his heart rate and blood pressure to drop suddenly. This led to circulation of blood to the brain to be reduced.The lack of blood flow made him fall unconscious in order for his body to rest and regenerate its system. Hence, why Momoi was so insistent at apologizing.

 

Luckily, the green haired teen was studying medicine and had knowledge on how to handle the situation. They went and retrieved the keys to the nurse’s office ( where they were currently, solving the mystery of why it was familiar, since Furihata spent an hour in there after being hit in the face with a soccer ball when he accidently wandered in the middle of a soccer club practise) and transfer his unconscious body to the bed where he could rest.

 

“Anyways, it seems like there won’t be any further issues except maybe the lingering feeling of lightheadedness. Let us know immediately if you feel sick or nauseous. It is extremely important to rest well and get a good night's sleep. Speaking of which, it’s currently midnight and I should really be getting back to the other members. The only ones left in charge are Aomine, Kise, and Murasakibara and frankly I doubt any of the players are sleeping even if we tell to. They really need someone to force them to sleep and keep order.” Midorima left as soon as he finished his explanation.

 

“Ah!” Momoi exclaimed. “I need to return the key back to the office! The key must be returned to the office once the door is opened in case it is forgotten and misplaced. I’m gonna return the key. Have a good night Furihata-kun and rest well!” She was about to leave when a voice called for her.

 

“Wait a minute, Momoi-san!” the teal haired teen called. “It’s not very good for a girl to wander alone at school after dark. I should accompany you. Better safe than sorry,” the teal haired teen said.

 

Before he left, Kuroko turned to Furihata and wished him a good night. “Rest well Furihata-kun! Hope you feel better soon. Good night to you too, Captain. Don’t stay awake too late,” he left after that.

 

Furihata smiled and felt a warm tingle resonating bubbling up in his chest. The first strings were less intimidating than he made them out to be. Suddenly, at the recollection of the tealet’s farewell his blood ran cold. There was a fourth member in the group. His mind let the information slip away due to being overwhelmed at conversing with the other members. ‘Captain’. _He was there._

 

“How are you doing?” Akashi asked approaching closer to where Furihata was currently sitting.

 

Furihata just stared and gulped without giving a reply. Either he wakes within the next few seconds or his head was going to explode. Holy shit! No way this was happening. There is no way in hell that, Akashi Seijurou, the perfect machine-like captain, was alone in the room with him. What the fuck is with this development.

 

God was either cruel or merciful to him; there was no telling which it was at the moment. Granted he had to faint in order for this face-to-face meeting to happen but he might’ve never gotten this opportunity otherwise. This was good right? He had been dreaming about something like this since a few hours ago. Furihata should’ve felt super lucky but instead all he felt was humiliation.

 

The person he had been yearning to see again was standing right before him yet he couldn’t bring himself to spit out a word. Fuck his life.

 

“I’ll repeat the question once more since you didn’t give me a response the first time. How are you feeling? Head still hurting?” Akashi asked.

 

“Ack!” Furihata let a nervous yelp escape from his throat. Speak! Speak dammit! He forced himself to say something. Anything at all would work. He just needed to talk.

 

“I usually don’t faint from eating curry.” Ladies and gentlemen, the most facepalm worthy comment of the year was brought to you by Furihata Kouki. Give a big round of applause to congratulate him on being the huge idiot he was (is).                 

    

Akashi just raised his eyebrows at that comment, a faint smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “That was quite a strange response to my question,” he mused. “Usually, when someone asks you this question the reply would be an ‘ I’m fine,’ or, ‘ I’m actually in a great deal of pain and would really appreciate it if I get medical attention’.”

 

“Sorry,” Furihata quietly mumbled, feeling an embarrassed blush appearing on his face. Luckily, the blood-rush could have been easily confused excused by his illness.

 

The smile grew more apparent on the captain’s face and the silence in room was disrupted by a faint chunkle. “ No need to be so apologetic all the time. There’s nothing wrong with that answer, or fainting from curry on that same note. It’s just… a bit surprising to be responded with that panicked explanation when a simple question was proposed.”

 

“Ahaha, right,” Furihata really can’t get more awkward than this ( jabbing himself with a sword seemed like a really appealing option right now, just ending his misery in general would be nice).  

 

“I’m assuming you are well judging from the fact that you can laugh at my lame attempt at humour. I’ve been told I’m not the greatest and needed to lighten up. Glad to see at least one person doesn’t feel as if that’s the case.”

 

“Ah, yes. I’m fine. Thanks for everything. Sorry for causing any trouble,” Furihata looked back down at his shaking hands ( the nerves of talking to his captain still affected his body).

 

Silence passed once more between the two. Furihata actually quite liked it this time. It was nice. Comforting and peaceful. Though, why would the captain sacrifice his resting time to keep him company like this? He could have left when the other members of the first string did too. It warmed his heart a little knowing this. However, he really did feel guilty for having him stand there with no other purpose than making sure he was fine.        

 

“Um, captain?” Furihata choked out. “ I’m sorry if this is rude of me to ask but why are you still here? Don’t you have other duties to perform rather than just stay here and keeping me company? You already know I’m fine so you could leave if you want too.”

 

“Well, I guess my presence is unwanted,” he joked.

 

“No I meant- Well…Er..” Furihata interrupted a bit panicked.

 

“It’s fine. I know what you meant,” Akashi held up a hand to stop Furihata’s failed attempt to rephrase his objection. “I was just staying behind in case you ever needed anything. Besides, as the captain, I was in charge of the health of all the athletes participating in this training camp. You passed out, which was something that wasn’t suppose to happen. It is my duty to make sure you are alright and decide whether or not you are fit to continue this camp or be sent home for further rest. It’s your choice really, whether or not you wish to continue. If you really don’t feel up for it you can asked to be excused from the camp.”

 

“No!” Furihata objected. “I mean, I don’t want to leave. I feel fine. I’m sure I can participate tomorrow. I came here training to improve and I won’t quit until I do that,” he conjured up a face filled with determination.

 

“If you really think so,” the captain mused, delighted with his resolve.

 

Just then, a thundering noise erupted from Furihata’s stomach, his body catching up with his hunger. Great. Right when he banished his previous blush too. From the rumble, a new rose colour blossomed, flushing his cheeks to look like a bouquet of pink lilies (haha, it isn’t too difficult deciding what flower to use for a comparison when you remember why this was written in the first place).    

 

“Would you like something to eat? After all, you didn’t get to finish your meal,” Akashi politely offered.

 

Furihata was at a crossroad. Such a huge dilemma he had to face. He truly did feel famished; food would be a blessing at this moment. However, he didn’t want to come off as rude or ungrateful by causing more trouble for the captain or the other first string members. He hesitated momentarily before the rational part of his brain was drugged by his hunger. His desire for food outweighed his courtesy. The one thing he really needed at the moment was food, his regret of embarrassing himself can come later.

 

“Um, yes, please,” he mumbled softly. Just as if it followed a cue, another growl sounded within the room. He sank lower into the bed, begging for it to devour him whole and salvage him from further embarrassment.

 

The president either didn’t notice the howl or didn’t care. He had his back turn to him while he was retrieving something on the other side of the room. Having accessed the item, Akashi returned to the side of the room where Furihata was currently located.

 

Furihata was about to make a move to accept the bowl, when all of sudden, the captain spun 180° heading for the door instead of the original route to him that Furihata thought was the planned course. Akashi sauntered out of the room before Furihata could attempt an intervention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. I do that a lot. But hey, 4000 words should make up for the late update. 
> 
> God bless Qikdaelun. Like an actual ray of sunshine. Thank you so much for helping me edit! Without your help, I wouldn't be able to post this chapter. 
> 
> Also thanks to those who left Kudos, comments, bookmarked, or just dropped by quickly to read it!
> 
> The next update might have to wait until December. I wanted to do NaNoWriMo this year so I need time for that. I also have another story to write since another friend's birthday is coming up. (Also the chapters were already written like a week beforehand and this update is all I planned up to)
> 
> P.S. Is anyone watching Yaoi on Ice? If not, you should. Also, you should get into K-pop and watch Moon Lover : Scarlet Heart Ryeo. I'm going to go die in a hole about the ending now.


	5. The Fire God Brings Food and Angst

 

Furihata cursed his slow reaction speed and lazy brain cells for not making him process the actions of the president sooner. Thus, he was left alone in the daunting room. It felt like betrayal. He wholeheartedly believed in the kindness of the captain. He was so captivated by his aura of righteousness and generosity he didn’t even give a second thought to idea of being abandoned.

 

It felt wrong somehow, so unlike something for the president to do. He couldn’t judge fairly however, since he only met him twice (both of which featured a failed display of Furihata’s character, probably causing Akashi’s image of him to become one equal to that of a clown).

 

He honestly felt confused and hurt at the abrupt departure of the captain. Did he do anything to prompt the evacuation? Maybe the president found the noises originating from his stomach monstrous and refuses to come in contact with him or be present in the same room as him unless he was forced to. Or, he lost interest in him and decided he wasn’t worthy of his time nor company. It could have been nature calling and he had a sudden urge to occupy the washroom (Furihata highly doubted that was the case).

 

Five minutes had passed since. Furihata just sat in silence, wallowing in pity for himself because he was ditched by the captain. His hands cradled his head as he bellowed out a frustrated wail. He did it again. Once again, he had his hopes raised impossibly high, only for them to be shattered by a drop from the highest peak of Mt. Everest. Had history taught him nothing? He was far too optimistic when it came to the president when all this time, it should’ve been the exact opposite. Why would he deserve his attention in the first place? The warm feeling born from the interaction with Akashi was ejected from his body as soon as he left. All that remained was cold and damp. This feeling should serve as a reminder. A memento that his fantasy could never be, no matter how much he hoped.

 

Deciding that all he wanted was good night’s sleep in preparation for tomorrow’s vigorous workout, he crawled back into a sleeping position on the bed and submerged himself within the mountains of blanket. He let his head come in contact with the pillow to produce a satisfied sigh. “Good night,” he murmured to no one in particular.

 

“Aren’t you going to wait for the food?”

 

The question jolted Furihata awake from his stupor. His eyes met the natural crimson orbs and he felt his jaws slipping wide open. Bewildered and shocked expressions forced his facial features to mold into an expression fused with large amounts of disbelieve.

 

“Shame too,” the captain continued. “I had to walk all the way to the other side of the school, just to heat up something edible for the student who caused so much trouble on their first day of school. Luckily, they fixed their issue with wearing the wrong attire and this bowl of food was a congrations present. I guess you don’t want this anymore, judging by your eagerness to drift off into sleep so soon.”

 

Furihata inhaled deeply still not being able to wrap his mind around the idea of Akashi’s return. What the hell!? Didn’t he leave? There’s literally no point in returning. He already did his job in making sure he was fine. He come just move on. Yet, he came back. To give Furihata food and vanquish his hunger. _Ba-bump._ His life was not a cliche shoujo manga but it sure as hell felt like one. Having a charismatic senpai be kind and helpful to the main character only to have them fall hopelessly in love with them. Except, Akashi wasn’t his senpai and Furihata wasn’t hopelessly in love (he was still at a point where he could be save, or so he told himself).

 

“Are you going to eat the food or not? You shouldn’t waste it. This was made using time and effort. I will refrigerate it if you don’t desire any now. You can heat it up tomorrow for breakfast if that meal isn’t to your tastes as well. Wouldn’t want you fainting again now, would we?” Akashi joked trying to trounce the tense atmosphere starting to build up. He deemed the attempt unsuccessful since he didn’t receive a reply.

 

It was strange. Usually, he could charm anyone into feeling comfortable with him (granted a couple of girls with crushes that acted really shy, but it never felt awkward). With the new transfer student however, nothing seemed to work. Furihata Kouki just radiated pure awkwardness and it was kind of cute, in a weird, chaotic way. Whatever it was, Akashi was intrigued. After all, with his job, he couldn't afford to have any students feel uncomfortable around him.

 

He turned his attention back on said student and internally sighed when he didn’t notice anything different with Furihata’s frozen position. Gathering up his patience, he tried once more.

 

“Do you really wish not to eat? Maybe if you actually tasted it…” he grabbed a spoon, scoped a tiny amount, perfect for taste-testing, and aimed it at the opened mouth with its jaws still wide open from the shock that wouldn’t pass. Finding a perfect opening, he launched the spoonful of deliciously fried rice into Furihata’s mouth, forcing him to have no other choice but to consume the food.

 

Feeling the mouthful of cuisine, Furihata was snapped out of his reverie (though it was more like a bunch of thoughts screaming at him full volume rather than pleasant thoughts that he got lost in) and began chewing the fried rice.

 

At the heavenly taste (angels were heard, he was pretty sure), he mentally cried tears of amazement at how something could taste so gratifying. It was insane. He felt pain when the sensation lived its peak and died down once he swallowed the mouthful. It was sad to let it go; sending an old friend to pits of stomach acid.

 

He took a moment to take in the lingering paradise before succumbing to disappointment as the faint aftertaste bid farewell to his tastebuds.

 

Like surpassing a barrier separating him and his love, he darted his eyes to the bowl in the president’s hands and he released a hopeful gasp. He looked longingly at it, entranced by the impactful favour he tasted.

 

The president, noticing those not so subtle ‘I want to devour you whole’ messages that Furihata’s eyes managed to convey. He inwardly checked off another item he succeed in doing. He was quite amused by the puppy-eyes the brunet had, all for food no less. Not wanting to disturb the young, one-sided-lover from his dream match any longer, he held out the bowl filled remaining portion of the fried rice and pressed it against Furihata’s hands.

 

Not needing to think twice about the offer, unlike the other instances that occurred between him and the redhead, he swiftly accepted the bowl and held it to his chest in a loving gesture of cradling. It might have been more correct to describe the passoff as him prying the bowl from the offering hands with force he normally lacked. Food was different. After the curry, to receive such a treasure was a blessing. He was pretty sure god was standing before him this instance and finished handing him something he would need to sell his soul to obtain.

 

A faint smile made its way to Akashi’s face. It was undetectable though, since he had been trained to only smile when it was necessary. Still, he couldn’t manage to abolish the smile (he wasn’t trying too hard though, there was no point).

 

Meanwhile, Furihata, who had seeming forgotten all about his surrounding or the presences of his captain, was too busy with the task at hand: to enjoy the mouthwatering dinner he managed to get a hold of. He began by taking little nibbles, poking at the food and calculating the optimum way to attack it without it going by too quickly nor not receiving enough flavour each dosage, thus, ruining the whole overall experience. Spelled and bewitch by the delightful cuisine, he accidently let out a moan. Shit.

 

Startled by the noise coming out from his own mouth, he liberated a yelp. Great. More reasons to bury himself within a thirty metre deep trench. Weird embarrassing sounds. Best cause of depression right there.  

 

Remembering that he wasn’t alone in this room, Furihata flickered his glance at Akashi. For a second, they made eye contact. It ended with Furihata shying away not being able to withstand the pounding heartbeats that came with it. God.

 

“The food tastes great,” Furihata commented. “Do you want a bite?” Furihata asked while holding out a spoonful of rice. Hello? International scouting agency of baffling, headbashing idiots? Furihata would like to turn himself in for breaking any good social rules that he honestly didn’t know were possible to break until this moment.

 

What was he thinking!? Obviously, since the food was given to him by the president, he had already eaten a meal and would not want the food to be returned. It was also offered to him on a used spoon. As in something contaminated with Furihata’s saliva and  germs. An almost stranger’s saliva and gems. He was honestly glad Akashi didn’t try to call the police on him or anything yet but at the development happening within their interactions, it was only a matter of time. Hopefully, it was later rather than sooner as Furihata would dread the confinement in a jail cell part of the arrest.

 

“No thank you,” Akashi rejected politely (which amazed Furihata at how unfazed and composed he was being after such a bizarre offer). “You look like you are enjoying it and I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your dinner. Taiga would be glad to know his meals are so highly praised and demanded,” he mused.

 

“Taiga? As in the Kagami Taiga from class 1-A?” the brunet wondered out loud.   

“Yes. Kagami Taiga, a power forward on the first string’s team,” Akashi confirmed. “He heard about the meal and its chefs. Taiga kindly took it upon himself to cook for the first string members and save us from Satsuki and Riko’s...Ah...Interesting curry creation. He stopped by during the period of time when you were still resting. We all agreed to let you have a portion of the food he brought since that would work better than any other medicine. After all, this wouldn’t have been the first time Taiga’s food resurrected someone after the suffered the ‘Aida-Momoi food curse’.”

 

Furihata felt grateful towards the members. It was thanks to them that he was able to experience the blessing that was to eat something produced by Kagami Taiga. Their class had home economic lessons with his and Furihata’s friends always mention how heavenly Kagami’s food was whenever they were cooking.

 

Fukuda once told him of the time where Kagami made extra ramen and had enough for one person in the class to have a bowl. That was when the legendary ‘Noodle Wars’ broke out. Alliances were formed and friendships were ruined. It turned into a flat out fist fight for the ramen between thirty hungry teens. The principle had to get involved and in the end, he confiscated the noodles. If you asked the teachers, they would tell you the principle was in a good mood for the rest of the day; strangely nice to everyone even. Needless to say, the bowl of ramen never found its way back to the original owner.

 

“Are you familiar with him?” Akashi asked.

 

“No, not really. I would like to thank him for the food though,” he said through a mouth full of fried rice.

 

“Thank Tetsuya instead. Without him, I doubt Taiga would actually give up his training with the remainder of the first strings to cook for us,” the redhead said.

 

Furihata was a little confused by that comment. A downside to being thrown into the social circle half a year late was not knowing the relationship between people. He once made the mistake of assuming a couple out of two siblings; the two continued to ignore him to this day. Thus, Furihata was hesitant towards assuming anything unless it was clearly stated.

 

“Taiga and Tetsuya are quite close since Tetsuya coordinates his ability with Taiga. Since Taiga dislikes thinking too much about how to obtain the ball, he is grateful that Tetsuya can easily delivers the ball to him,” Akashi clarified upon seeing the confused look on the brunet’s face.

 

“So...Are they like...Together?” Furihata inquired.

 

All of a sudden, the light-hearted mood was shattered. Without explanation, Akashi looked as if he was struggling from restraining his inner rage from lashing out. His facial features morphed into anger and annoyance. He felt completely different from moments before.

 

“No. You should get some rest, it’s getting late,” the redhead spat out before he turned away and marched out of the room.

 

This time, there was no stopping him. He was gone for good. Furihata had been the one to drive him away. Guilt gradually started to build up. He had mention something he was no suppose to. The president was in such a foul mood because of him.

 

With a sigh, he finished the rest of the rice. It wasn’t as good as it used to be. All it did was leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. The brunet preserved till the end, no matter how astringent the meal felt on his tongue.

 

He tried to get up and properly stash away the bowl. He couldn’t in the end; standing up was a chore and it brought about a whole new level of dizziness. Furihata gave in. The bowl found itself a bed for the night, on the nightstand beside his bed; a promise of returning it home tomorrow was made.

 

Furihata crawled into his bed for the second time that night and tried to sleep. It didn’t come as easily as before. He felt like he had forgotten how to fall asleep. The brunet tossed and turned a couple of times. His energized brain was still functioning and the thoughts it conjured up made it impossible for sleep to overtake him.

  
An hour felt like forever. An hour was exactly how long it took for him to become a slave to sleep. During the hour, he stared at the ceiling, counting its cracks, comparing those cracks to the mistakes in his life. He drifted to sleep after the ninety-ninth crack was mentally traced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A month without uploading she comes back with a chapter, that no one even asked her for, she's not a challenge to drag. So prepare for an attack and by that I mean cringe, cause this authoress' bout to get dragged by her non-existing fringe.
> 
> Hey guys, it's that author that no one cares about. I don't think anyone remembers this existed anymore besides my irl friends. Kudos to you if you still want to follow a story with an author who can't manage time and her life. 
> 
> November was an eventful month. School happened. I wrote 10K for NaNoWriMo recently. Did another 14K for another friend's birthday (insert advertisement about the PruCan fic here). Also, EXO has taken over my life, I'm re-entering the Harry Potter phase, and I binge watched Eyewitness yesterday and became a die-hard Philkas shipper so bare with me. Fingers-crossed the next update can come within the next two weeks. 
> 
> Thanks to anyone who read, sent Kudos, leave a comment, bookmarked or overall just clicked and gave this fic a chance. Hope you guys have a nice week!


	6. Coin Toss of Fate/Furihata is Just Really Indecisive

 

Furihata woke up in a rather strange position. Sometime during the night, he fell from his bed. He found himself tangled in a net woven from blankets. It took a bit of struggling to unravel himself from the tight binding trap that restricted his movement.

 

Parts of his body felt sore when he got up to stretch, his neck especially. He let out a defeated sigh and scanned the room for damage control. Apparently, he was prone to sleepwalking whenever he spends the night anywhere besides his house. It was proven true several times in the past with him waking up either with a strange object in hand (the most eccentric was probably his cousin’s eyeliner) or somewhere other than where he fell asleep (the kiddy pool incident was not fun; he had a cold for weeks). The past week had been hell since his body was still adjusting to the move. He was pleasantly surprised to find not much harm came to the room during the night.

 

The pillow he had last night was flung across the room. It was an easy fix. He quickly scooped up the large marshmallow and placed it on the bed. The brunet also retrieved the blanket on the floor, folded it neatly, and tucked it under a pillow before deciding it was overkill. The blanket found its way to the foot of the bed and Furihata nodded in approval once the change provided an image of a tidy bed (or as tidy as it can get being made half-heartedly in two minutes).  

 

Not quite being able to shake the weariness away, Furihata took a seat on the bed. He debated on lying star-fish position on the bed. He could bury his face in the soft white cloud and forget everything but he didn’t want to mess up the arrangement he worked so hard on. Plus, he had to continue on with the training camp and falling asleep would most certainly interfere.

 

So, he did the next best thing. It felt amazing. His eyes were allowed a moment of darkness and he tuned out the rest of the world. It wasn’t perfect- his body still felt sore and the drama going on in his life wasn’t erased completely, just put to halt momentarily, thrown into the furthest corner of his mind. At the moment, the few minutes of peace and silence granted freedom to his mind and it was exactly want he need. Nothing was solved but everything felt perfect, at least, for a little while.

 

The growl from his stomach was the ringtone for Furihata to pick up the call- the calling of human instinct to scavenge for food so a leash could be kept on their hunger. He tried to resist it, finding the option of a few more moments’ rest more appealing, but the stomach was like an obsessive girlfriend. It kept calling and calling until Furihata was fed up (ironically). He let out a frustrated grumble and tugged at his hair. A deep breath was inhaled before he shot up from his seat.

 

Hesitation attached itself to his steps. Reluctance begged him not to leave the room. He dread the human interaction he was bound to face once he exits the safe bubble where there’s little desire to visit nor dwell. The unappealing atmosphere of a nurse’s office makes the space entirely friendly to an antisocial, awkward mess. Why couldn’t he just leave right now and go back home? Back to his awaiting bed, where he could spend the rest of the weekend, lazily lounging on and relish in the comfortable atmosphere void of anything to trigger stress or tension (exception being homework and his parents to an extent).

 

He really didn’t want to face the embarrassment of fainting due to a measly bowl of curry, even if it was the devil’s creation. Facing the captain after his sudden fit of angry would be difficult too. All Furihata wanted to do was forget about yesterday and continue on with his life. But to do that, he has to jump over the hurdle blocking his way- the wall sealing off prosperity and peace of mind. Yet, whispers of doubt swirled in his head. Arguments for and against were shouted at him full volume; his mind was being ripped in half.  

 

A conclusion was reached in the end. He did what all indecisive people would do. Luck would serve as guidance. Five yen was taken out of his pocket; a forgotten piece of copper and zinc he found tucked away in a hidden corner during the clean up. Subconsciously, his fingers were fiddling with it during his mental debate. It was a harmless thing, something that could have been easily overlooked. Now, its discovery could intervene with his future. Sometimes, little items aren’t as insignificant as you’d originally think. Once they are given a purpose, they can be worth more than any riches in the world. Furihata just wished this lesson wasn’t taught today.

 

The coin burned in his hands. He could feel the bumps created by the stamped on kanji, the edges of the gear encircling the inner circle. Rice, water and gear would be the side for him to remain at the camp, to venture outside the room and obtain a somewhat decent breakfast (nothing could top last night’s dinner). The side with solely kanji would be his opportunity to leave, to escape the current reality and have it possibly come back and haunt him in the future.   

 

It wasn’t the best coin toss ever. Furihata overestimated the distance. It spun in the air a couple of times, soaring. Finally, its airborne moments were finished and the coin dived straight for the floor. It repelled the ground a couple of times, each a little weaker and it rebound a little lower. The coin bounced exactly five times before it reached the its limits and used up all its power. The final ding chimed like an eerie note of death.

 

It landed a few metres away from where Furihata was standing. Great. More work. The pound of his heart was in sync with his footsteps. He commanded it to cease, it disobeyed. Figures, nothing would ever go according to his plans. With trembling hands, he kneed down to obtain a closer look at the coin. A sharp breath was inhaled.

 

Glaring at him was the pattern-filled side, the side where other symbols were mixed in with the kanji, the side where he had to continue the camp. The result closed a book of his worries and immediately began scripting a new one.

 

Okay. There wasn’t anything else he could do about this situation. He swore to leave it up to fate and low and behold it told him to stay. Furihata forced himself to take a step forward. Another. With each step, it became increasingly harder to walk, he was struggling with a mental barrier.

 

He was five paces away from the door when the thought of last night’s dinner occurred to him. His mind obliterated the thought of needing to put away the bowl until his memory was returned seconds ago. Glad to have an excuse to derail from his journey, he turned around and made his way over to the nightstand.

 

Food. A store-bought melonpan appeared instead of the bowl he was sent to retrieve. Strange. He left the empty bowl there yesterday. Unless… He picked up the wrapped bakery good, he inspected it for further clues, none were discovered. His eyes then trailed back to where he picked up the bread, a scrap of paper was on the counter.

 

‘ _Hope you rested well yesterday. Come to the gym after you finish eating._

 

 - _ _A.S.'__

 

 

Furihata almost dropped the melonpan held by his shaking hands. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten out of bed. He wasn’t mentally prepared. The note indicated that the captain was expecting him to show up, that he was keeping an eye out for him (and probably the rest of the team members but that didn’t make it less nerve wracking).

 

Milk would be preferred to help digest his breakfast but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Plus, the meal was handed right to him, what more could he ask for? It was sweet, gave him a little boost to wake him up. Before he knew it, the meal was devoured and gone with it the sole reason tying him to the room. He had to leave now, he would probably get in trouble if he stalled any longer. The door closed behind him with a gentle snap.

 

**********

 

As he appoarched the gymnasium, his steps shrank in size. It took him longer to throttle forward. Voices grew louder and easier to make out. Muffled commands and cheers shifted to clear projections of what was happening within the room. Effort being put forward and cries of succession left nothing up to the imagination. The camp was serving its purpose and the players were becoming better. He would have loved to join in right away, warming up a little before provoking a battle with the rigorous routine, if not for the shame of facing everyone.

 

It might not have been as much of a big deal as Furihata thought. The incident could have been forgotten, clear from their memories. Except, he fainted from digesting curry (although, it was nauseating curry to be fair). The thought of such was so ridiculously humorous, there was no way he would get a free pass and have the moment erased. They were high schoolers, mature enough to discuss solemn issues with but not quite as mature to let a good laugh get away. Furihata wasn’t being paranoid (he was). He would be teased and have this follow him till the end of his high school career. Goodbye to his dreams of normality, instead, embrace the nicknames he was guaranteed to receive.

 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize his body had automatically marched him into the room. The silence surrounded him spoke plenty. For once in his life, he’d rather have screams and chaos than muted tension disguised as peace. The stares were making him uncomfortable. Hell, he was already in distress without the glances of everyone narrowing down on him, it feel judging almost (he came out here to have a fun time and he’s honestly feeling so attacked right now).

 

He waited. Furihata wasn’t the type to seek out confrontation, he sure wasn’t about to break his character now. It might seem obvious to others, to get it over with and move on, nothing too bad would happen. They don’t understand. If they weren’t that type of person they could never comprehend the struggles of the awkward. Although he could face people radiant of a stronger aura, he couldn’t help but tremble in fear.

 

They weren’t those type of people - his peers. He can interact fine with most of them on a daily basis, no pressure was felt. Yet, what does he fear then? Why shy away from the thought of facing everyone? Whatever it was, he was in the room now, mentally freaking the fuck out about what was going to happen.

 

The first ones to react to his presence was his two friends. Fukuda and Kawahara rushed to his side after the initial shock faded. They both looked worriedly at him; he did not expect this. The two were distressed for him rather than ashamed of being associated with him like Furihata thought they would be.  

 

“Hey, are you alright?” Kawahara asked softly. “You were unconscious yesterday,” he stated.   

 

Fukuda smacked his friend and gave him a scoff.

 

“You don’t say, Captain Obvious,” Fukuda joked.

 

After dealing with Kawahara, he turned to Furihata and gave him a smile. Furihata returned the smile, it was a huge contribution to relax his nerves and end the numerous possible scenarios he began generating in his mind.  

 

“Are you alright? You ready to start practising?” Fukuda anxiously asked him.

 

Okay, this was not at all what Furihata was expecting. No one was laughing at him, rather, they seemed concerned. People began going up to him and ask about his health, whether or not he was alright from last night. They were mere acquaintances, he didn’t know them too well, but that didn’t stop them from crowding around him and assessing his well being to deem whether or not it was fit enough to partake in activities.

 

Eventually, even the coaches came over due to the commotion. The group of rainbow haired teens intimidated him. The green one, Midorima, gave him a stern look, as if he was annoyed at the brunet for disrupting the practice. The purple giant munched on his chips and spared a look at him before returning to giving his food the full attention. The blonde was bickering with the blue haired male but stopped when he saw Furihata, the other didn’t and continued to ramble on about something trivial. Kise flashed him a smile and smack the teen standing next to him on the head.

 

“Oi! What was that for!?” Aomine demanded with a frown.

 

“You wouldn’t shut up,” Kise responded bluntly.

 

The taller teen rolled his eyes when the blonde turn his back towards him. It wasn’t in an irritated manner, endearing was the correct term. Furihata inwardly smiled due to catching the subtle exchange. Kise gave him a little grin before nodding his head, a gesture to inquire after his well being. The brunet echoed the nod and confirmed that he was doing fine.

 

Furihata braced himself for the appearance of scarlet red hair. He was met with disappointment when only purple, green, blue and yellow gathered around him. A part of him wanted to ask where the captain was; he didn’t since it would have been rude to the other members. Besides, he didn’t really have any business with him. He had only hoped… There it was. The keyword here was _hoped._ Nothing absolute was established between the two; no hints of anything evident. All delusions and false hope on his part.

 

Nevertheless, he found himself scanning the room for more heartbreak. It was strange, moments ago he feared the possibility of human interaction but now he was disappointed at the lack of it? To an extent where he longed for it? Human emotions were complex, confusing and most of all, fickle.   

 

“If you are ready to begin training, you should head towards a station. Everyone, go back to your warm ups or else the routines are doubled,” the glasses-wearing teen commanded, startling him and temporarily interrupting his survey of room.

 

With his threat, the accumulating audience scattered like fall leaves on a windy day. His two friends bid him farewell and wished him luck. Midorima clicked his tongue and strided off to a group of clueless players near a rack of balls. The purple giant followed Midorima’s lead and paused in his snacking to make his way to the opposite side of the room where another hoard of teens gathered.

 

Aomine was about to leave as well before he was stopped by the blond tugging on his arm. He sent him a confused look, he need clarification for his friend’s action. The blond returned with a look conveying a simple message - _just trust me_. The blue haired teen gave a lazy shrug and stared at Furihata.

 

“Hey! Do you think you can continue the training camp?” Kise questioned.

 

“Er, yeah. I think…” Furihata said unsure of the situation.

 

“Good!” Kise jabbed the blue haired teen, signaling for him to contribute to the conversation and make his presence useful.

 

“You can join my group for the warm up if you want,” Aomine grumbled.

 

Despite the word warm being used in the sentence, it felt as if the atmosphere grew ten times colder from the offer. The blue haired teen singlehandedly caused the ice age. The bundle of sunshine beside him was obviously displeased by his lack of interest. He sighed and gave up on relying on his friend.

 

“Furihata-kun, let’s go get you warmed up!” Kise cheered in an attempt camouflage the spiritless aura his teammate was radiating.

  
“Ryouta, may I have a word with him before you whisk him away?” a voice interjected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's Eve! Hope everyone had a wonderful year and will continue to do so the next year! 
> 
> I am so sorry for being so late. Writer's block, school, my own laziness, getting [Tumblr](https://addictedtofiction7190.tumblr.com/) (check it out if you want) and a phone are all causes for the delay in posting. I will try my hardest to update soon, like, February? January is exam month for me so I need to study (excuses right here). 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, leave Kudos, commenting last chapter! I appreciate it! Hopefully I can update soon! 
> 
> Also  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> I JUST GOT YOUR MESSAGES (I literally downloaded this yesterday and I'm already dead)  
> Sorry for rambling I'll leave now bai.


	7. Apologies and Injury With a Hint of Jealousy

“Akashicchi! Of course! Aominecchi and I will be over there training group four if you need us,” he exclaimed before dragging the blue haired teen with him. 

 

The duo’s departure left the brunet alone with the captain. 

 

This was it, the moment Furihata had been nervously anticipating all morning. The captain was with him, standing just a meter away. They were together, alone. At the moment, it seemed like nothing could interrupt them; Furihata was beyond frighten. 

 

A minute was taken up by stares. The half of the minute was filled with suffocating silence, the second half consisted of the brunet opening and closing his mouth, uncertain of where to begin with unleashing his bubbled up thoughts. The scarlet haired president was unfazed with the situation. He remained quiet despite engaging the conversation. His lips were pressed together in a tight line, a seal restricting his ability of speech. 

 

Furihata stood uncomfortably for a minute with a pair of crimson orbs staring intensely at him. They were like a search radar, scanning and analyzing before sending feedback to the main system, his brain, so the information could be processed. The brunet was unclear on what was meant to be found but judging from the lack of speech from the captain, ‘it’ was still being determined. 

 

Finally, they were both fed up, driven to madness with the reticence. Akashi was the one to break it, the barrier of silence. His boldness was what saved the  failing conversation, or lack of thereof. One sentence was all it took to initiate a civilized discuss and allow the two bottled-up teens to release their thoughts and freely express the conflicts within them. 

 

“I apologize for the behaviour I displayed yesterday, it was uncalled for,” the captain uttered, not afraid to boldly make eye contact with the brunet. 

 

Furihata bit his cheeks. Of all things to begin the conversation, an apology was something he didn’t anticipate. A sense of relief was usually felt after an apology but this one came in the form of a speeding car and rammed straight into him. He was speechless, dumbfounded, astounded, aphonic, as well as other adjectives used to describe this situation of not being able to speak due to his mind being blown. If anything, he should be the one to admit guilt for causing the outburst by undoubtedly hitting a nerve and struck jackpot in the mine of destroying warm atmospheres. 

 

“No, please. I don’t deserve your apology. I’m the one who should be sorry, not you. I obviously did something to make you upset, or else you wouldn’t just suddenly leave. Even though I made you angry, you were kind enough to give me breakfast. Thank you,” Furihata fidgeted with his fingers, finding them interesting enough to break eye contact with the president. Avoiding his gaze was more like it, the crimson orbs still intimidate him. 

 

“It was only right that we provide you with food during the training camp. I shouldn’t take any credit, Ryouta and Daiki were the ones who retrieved the bread for everyone. I presume your breakfast was enjoyable,” Akashi keep his eyes on the brunet even after Furihata withdrawn his brown orbs, a predator refusing to give up his prey. 

 

“Yes, very much so,” a shy smile made an appearance. Furihata paused, unsure of what else to say. There wasn’t anything he could possibly mention to carry on their conversation. Despite his blooming ‘crush’ on the captain, he doesn’t really know Akashi Seijurou on a personal level. When the captain made no further signs of continuing their chat, Furihata mentally braced himself to return to the role of ‘supporting character C’.  

 

“Er, if there isn’t anything else… I should go join in on the practice? I mean, you are the captain of the team and I’m sure there’s plenty of more important things that you need to take care of rather than wasting time with a third string player like me. Well hopefully I won’t remain a third stringer player forever, aha. Oh gosh I’m rambling again, I just, um… leave?” Furihata took a slight bow and started to make his way towards the cheery blonde’s training group. He stopped when he felt a tug at his wrist, a gentle yank with the sole purpose of not allowing him to walk away. His breath hitched and for a moment he allowed himself to feel comfort.  _ Next time _ , he told himself,  _ next time he wouldn’t surrender to false hope.  _

 

Instead, he puts on the best smile he could muster _—_ undoubtedly one of the fakest he’s ever produced _—_ and once again faced the captain.  The thoughtful look never left the red haired teen, if anything, it intensified tenfold. 

 

“You aren’t dismissed yet,” the pressure on Furihata’s wrist still haven’t been lifted yet. “Yesterday, because you fainted, you fell behind on the morning practice and extra effort must be made to allow you to catch up with everyone else.”

 

“Okay,” the brunet agreed, nodding to emphasize his point. 

 

“After the usual training that you’ll partake today, you must stay behind for an extra hour. Meet back here thirty minutes after dinner and I’ll personally see to your training and provide advice for improvement. After all, I am a perfectionist and I can’t possibly bare seeing anything out of place in my plans.” Furihata felt shivers, this Akashi seems a lot more intense, a reason for fear. 

 

“So I’m coming here at 8:30?” Furihata had to confirm one final time. “Anything else?” he silently begged that the answer was ‘yes’. 

 

“Yes, meet here at 8:30 and not a minute later. There is also another matter I must address. I-”

 

“OH MY GOD KUROKOCCHI! ARE YOU OKAY!?” Kise’s voice echoed across the room and immediately Akashi’s attention was drew to the commotion. 

 

“Tetsu-kun, you are bleeding…” Momoi was choking back a scream, nearly in tears. 

 

“Quick! Someone call the doctor!” Aomine demanded. 

 

Furihata saw a basketball laying a meter away from the hurt player and pieced together his conclusion of what occurred. 

 

Without another word, Akashi rushed to the injured member’s side. His face flickered with numerous emotions, none lasting long enough for Furihata to closely analyze.  

 

“Tetsuya, look at me,” he spoke gently while transferring the fallen player from the ground into his hold. Akashi’s eyes, previously what Furihata had classified as nothing but terrifying, radiated with a warm gaze. The Furihata was memorised at how the scarlet orbs were filled with life and a look of fondness. He stared and stared. Something tugged at his heart. Those eyes weren’t meant for him.  

 

“You’ll be fine, you are strong. I’ll stay with you so don’t be afraid. We’ll bring you to the hospital and you’ll feel much better. Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep.”

 

Furihata couldn’t calm his heart nor could he tear his eyes away from the captain. Kuroko was safely wrapped in a tight hold and Akashi lifted the bleeding teen in a princess hug. Akashi politely asked everyone to move out of the way before going back to sharing hushed whispers with the nearly unconscious basketball player. Kuroko’s arms clung weakly around the captain’s neck and Furihata found that breathing was becoming more difficult. 

 

Eventually, the flash of red and teal exited the room and the training was expected to continue. Everyone was forbidden to have another second thought about the accident and forced to focus on improving their basketball skills. Kise came up to Furihata and dragged him to join his training group. For the rest of the practice, no one saw Akashi Seijurou. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember a comment that once said I'd fall into kpop hell and laughed it off...Oh how foolish I was. I doubt anyone remembers this fic anymore but I still feel a sense of guilt for not continuing. It's been half a year and having a massive case of writer's block just completely made me struggle with writing a new chapter. This update is super short but I just feel like I really need to get this out or else I'll never continue writing this story ever again. Sorry for everything and hopefully I can finish chapters now that summer is here and school isn't causing stress and eating away all my time. Check out my [Tumblr](https://addictedtofiction7190.tumblr.com/) if you want and you can shoot a message as an anon. Thanks to all those people in the past who supported me and sorry for not updating for half a year.


	8. Locked in With Faulty Flashlights

 

 

Furihata was half-heartedly jabbing his meal and pushing the remaining portion of food around with his chopsticks. The problem with his loss of appetite wasn’t the meal; the food was still horrible but edible at least. What plagued his thoughts all day long was the lack of Akashi Seijurou at the training camp. Did something serious happen to the teal haired basketball player? Would Akashi ever comeback? _Are they still having their special training?_

 

Too busy drowning in the numerous amount of questions that his mind seems to conjure every few seconds, Furihata missed the private discussion conducted by his friends. Kawahara and Fukuda noticed Furihata’s auto-pilot mode. Yet, they didn’t understand what could possibly throw their friend into such a state. Puzzled but curious, the two plotted a plan to make their friend spill the beans.

 

The dazed brunet was in the middle of aggressively chewing on his chopsticks when he felt two menacing presences behind him. Instead of dining in front of the brunet, Kawahara and Fukuda now sat on both sides of Furihata, caging the latter in. With no means of escaping, Furihata gave the pair a questioning look.

 

“What’s going on?” Furihata asked a bit freaked out, a natural reaction when dinner was suddenly turned into an interrogation.

 

“You tell us,” Kawahara retorted.

 

“Huh?” he tilted his head slightly to the right.

 

“You’ve been acting weird all day and honestly I just want to know what’s wrong,” Kawahara bluntly stated, earning him a smack from Fukuda.

 

“Oh my god, you were suppose to subtly bring it up. Do you have no chill?”

 

“Sorry, jeez. What’s the point in running around in circles when we can get an immediate answer?” Fukuda just shook his head disapprovingly.

 

“Clearly you’ve never pretended to be a secret agent when you were a kid,” a frown followed the statement.

 

“What does that have to do with anything!?”

 

The two continued to squabble, forgetting about the brunet who was sandwiched uncomfortably between the two basketball players. Poor Furihata tried to worm his way out of the situation by sliding down and out of his seat. His movements were enough of a disturbance to be a signal for his friends to focus on the matter at hand.

 

“What are you doing?” Fukuda stared at the floor.

 

Furihata was caught having his knees pressed against the floor and his whole body underneath the table. He awkwardly made eye contact with the duo and gave them a reassuring smile.

 

“I was trying to escape a domestic argument between an old married couple…” he cringed at his choice of wording. “Honestly, I felt like I was being the third wheel and just wanted to leave you two to your conversation.” Furihata never felt more like a third wheel than in that moment; he once had to watch a movie with his aunt and uncle and nothing should’ve been able to top that (except Kawahara and Fukuda who easily made him feel like an extra in a romcom).   

 

“Sorry for ignoring your existence dude, we got carried away,” Fukuda acknowledged.    

 

“Okay, seriously. Why have you been so out of it recently?” Kawahara persisted in the quest to pry an answer out of the brunet.  

 

“Uhh… I’m perfectly fine?” the statement came out more question-like than Furihata had anticipated it to be.

 

The duo stared at him with an expression that told him they were unconvinced. Heck, even Furihata himself didn’t believe that he wasn’t spacing out every five seconds ever since this morning.

 

“Yes, of course. That’s totally why you’ve been poking at the food as if it had committed a crime by murdering your whole family,” Fukuda responded with a lot more sass than what Furihata had been used.

 

“To be fair, the food committed a crime by simply existing,” Kawahara couldn’t help but interject with his opinion about their meal.   

 

“That is totally not the point!” Fukuda was losing his chill due to Kawahara’s unnecessary commentation.

 

While his friends were arguing, Furihata took this opportunity to allow his mind to wander off again and assess the options he had to escape this discussion. Plan A involved sliding out of his seat, crawling under the table, and breaking into a sprint to literally exit their conversation. This plan was obviously unusable as it’ll only buy him a day’s worth of time at most and eventually, he’ll still be hauled back right where they left off. The second plan was to fake food poisoning once more and pretend to faint until the duo leaves him alone. Just like the first plan, it will only be temporary and unexecutable (also the pink haired manager might cry if he faints from her cooking again). Reluctantly, the brunet realized the only solution to this whole situation was to talk things out with his friends.

 

“Guys, I’m ready to talk things out if you are willing to listen…” the defeat tone could be depicted from his voice.

 

Immediately, Fukuda and Kawahara stopped their pointless bickering and turned their attention towards the basketball player that was sandwiched between them. A pause of silence transpired between the trio and suddenly, Furihata felt like the other two plans weren’t as stupid as he previously thought. Drawing in a sharp breath, Furihata was ready to take on the world (or horrifically humiliate himself).

 

“I don’t know why I’ve been spacing out recently?” Okay, feigning ignorance. Well this confession will definitely lead to a spiral of lies.

 

“To analyze your problem, you’ve only been spacing out since this morning,” Kawahara noticed.

 

Furihata was internally screaming because his friends were so close to guessing and holy gods he can’t lie to save his own life.

 

“Yeah,” Fukuda chimed in with his agreement. “You seemed fine this morning until-” Fukuda’s eyes widened in realization. “Until Kuroko was injured by that basketball!”

 

Oh shit. Fukuda hit the bullseye and Furihata’s mind went on panic mode. The logical part of Furihata told him to just blurt out the truth and feel the sweet relief of not needing to hide anything. However, the cowardly side of him suggested to lie his way out of the discussion and everything would be rainbows (like Chanyeol’s new hair) and sunshine ( like J-hope). For a second, the pure side of him was overpowering until he decided to screw everything and take the easy way out.

 

“Please don’t laugh at me when I say this…” his whispering alerted the duo of his distress (and possibly fool them into believing that none of the following was bullshit that Furihata made up on the spot). “I was kind of Jungshook because of what happened with Kuroko. When I was younger, I got hit in the face with a basketball. There was so much blood and screaming I-I was hospitalized for quite a while. Seeing Kuroko get hurt this morning, it just brought back those memories and I can’t think straight (exactly why he’s lying to his friends, he can’t think straight).”

 

When he was engulfed in two tight hugs, Furihata gave himself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. Maybe the brunet should consider joining the drama department if his basketball skills doesn’t improve. Furihata should feel like a horrible prick at the moment for emotionally manipulating his only two friends but instead he basked in the relief of weaseling his way out of the interrogation.  

 

********

 

After an eternity, everyone was kicked out of the cafeteria once the scheduled meal was served. The players were told to either shower or head to their sleeping areas to occupy themselves with ‘team-building’ activities hosted by the first string players. With his friends’ interest in the ‘bonding moments’, Furihata was almost dragged into a fortune telling session led by Midorima. Just before he gave into the idea, the brunet realized embarrassing outcomes could result from having his fortune told. He managed the escape by spewing out a random combination of word that could be a passable excuse before darting out the room (exactly like how KrisTaoLu darted out of EXO’s lives).  

 

Furihata was wandering around the halls aimlessly before he spotted the clock. A flush of recognition rushed through his brain and he felt ready to scream again. Earlier the day, before the whole Kuroko incident, he had promised the captain to meet at 8:30. The clock he saw read 8:20 which meant he had ten minutes to travel to the agreed upon location.

 

He didn’t know what came over him. As soon as that realization settled in, he brain screamed at him to ‘run, run, run’, never ever stopping for even a short moment to catch his breath. Step by step, he came closer and closer to his destination and a feeling a dread brewed within him. _What if Akashi wasn’t there?_

 

Furihata was panting by the time he stopped in front of the gym. Nothing could compare to the feeling of finally being able to breathe again. He took his time trying to regulate his breathing and let the pent up adrenaline fade with every puff of breath he released. His legs burned like fire and the brunet had to lean against the building to prevent his body from free falling toward the ground.

 

Struggling to take his phone out of his pockets, he finally succeed in checking the time after dropping the device on the floor a couple of times. 8:28. He made it. He was there with two minutes to spare. _Then why wasn’t the unsettling feeling going away?_

 

The brunet stood at the entrance of the gym, ready to open the doors and face his destiny. He closed his eyes before giving the sealed doors a gentle push.

 

None of the lights were on; the darkness made his skin crawl. At that moment, Furihata realized he was standing inside the empty gym, _alone._ No one was there. _No one except himself._

 

Furihata choked back a sigh. He did it to himself. He was the one who clung to this false hope. Of course the captain wouldn’t be here after what happened this morning. Akashi had plenty on his list that he had to worry about, a list that Furihata wasn’t a part of.

 

Despite the disappointment eating away at him, Furihata was a dreamer to the core. He wasn’t himself today, that fact was established a long time ago. The brunet knew the captain wasn’t coming. Yet, he flicked the lights on and retrieved a rack of basketballs from the equipment room (he found the hidden key mentioned on the training camp pamphlet and helped himself).

 

At 8:30, the first basket was shot and dribbling sounds filled the once silent gym. He should of felt scared or lonely, being the only one practicing so late. Instead, he was trying his hardest to not focus on the time by diverting his attention to improving his shooting skills.

 

Time is slowly slipping away bit by bit, this truth wouldn’t leave his mind no matter what. Furihata was perfectly aware that a minute had passed every time he spared a glance at the timer. He couldn’t let his emotions distract him though. He couldn’t let his persistence leave him. After all, if he lost his persistence, he would have lost himself.  

 

After twelve minutes of hard work, he took a three minute break to wipe away his sweat, hydrate himself, and cool down. Once the clock indicated 8:45, Furihata got back on his feet and grabbed the nearest basketball.

 

“I see that you doing fine even without my assistance.”

 

Furihata was in mid-shot when the voice called out. Startled, his arms started flailing and his basketball was thrown in a high arch before comedically falling to hit the brunet square on his head. He wanted to die from the hit rather than survive and face the embarrassment of being such a mess.

 

“Please don’t tell me I need to take another person to the hospital,” the new arrival uttered with grave tone. “Our training camp might get a lawsuit from the amount of injuries that occurred over the course of a weekend…” the last part was mumbled but Furihata managed to catch it and snorted.

 

Freaked out by the atrocious sound that was produced by his nose, Furihata quickly tried to cover it up with a cough. Needless to say, that plan wasn’t even close to succession.

 

Akashi Seijurou donned a polite (noticeably forced) smile on his face. Furihata didn’t need to be Conan to detect that the captain was tired. His hair was messed up from running his hand through it numerous times, a gesture performed by many when they are stressed. His voice wasn’t projecting the usual confident tone he spoke with. If anything, he sounded distressed? Worried? Uneasy? Furihata couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the captain was feeling at the moment but he was sure that Akashi was in this state because of Kuroko Tetsuya.

 

“Are you okay?” the question successfully put an end to the brunet’s attempt at analyzing the red haired teen standing before him.

 

Furihata needed a moment to realize Akashi was talking to him before he quickly formed an answer. “I’m fine. The ball didn’t hit too hard and I’m used to getting hurt because of my own stupidity,” he winced at his response.

 

“That’s not exactly a good thing to be used to…” Akashi critiqued. “I’m surprised you took the initiative to practice by yourself when I wasn’t present. Usually, the other people would leave after a minute of waiting alone. You sure are full of surprises Furihata Kouki,” a sliver of a true smile graced his lips.

 

Furihata didn’t want to consider himself to be a blusher. He honestly didn’t want to be grouped with those people in a shoujo manga, the ones with their ridiculously drawn brushes and longing gazes. At the moment though, that was the only accurate depiction of what Furihata looked like. Just from a simple compliment, he turned a bright shade of pink.

 

“Umm, thank you?” the wide range of vocabulary drilled into his head starting from his birth disappeared, leaving Furihata with only those three words. Akashi just nodded and went to grab a basketball.

 

The room returned to being soundless sans their breathing. Before Furihata could control himself he blurted out the question that he had been mentally asking all day long.

 

“Is Kuroko-san okay?” he realized he may have nailed the coffin to his possible relationship with the captain by proposing such a question.

 

Immediately, the atmosphere grew thick with tension. The expression on the captain’s face turned darker and terrifyingly calmer. Those scarlet orbs that Furihata stared at in awe suddenly became unbearable to look at.

 

“Tetsuya is not in any danger. He’ll feel a bit out of it for the next few days. I left him in the care of his family before coming back to the training camp. Rest assured, he’s not seriously injured,” the captain seemed to struggle with recalling the events that occurred. “Taiga is looking after him,” bitter resentment was attached to the statement.

 

“Why didn’t you stay with him?” Furihata should really consider sewing his mouth shut so he wouldn’t dig a hole for his grave with the amount of nonsense that escapes from his mind.

 

“Excuse me?” Akashi seemed a bit baffled by Furihata’s inquiry.

 

“It’s obvious that you care for him...” the brunet barely whispered. “Why didn’t you stay if you worry so much?”

 

“I have a responsibility as the captain to oversee that this training camp processes as planned. I can’t let my emotions distract me from my duties. Besides, I left Tetsuya in good hands, as much as I would hate to admit it,” annoyance was present in the redhead’s voice.

 

“Putting work ahead of your own feelings, that’s sad…” Furihata couldn’t filter his thought.

 

“It’s what I must do, because I’m an Akashi.”

 

Without any further words about their exchange, the red haired captain went over to the basketball rack. He tested a few before settling on the ball of his choice. The hungry look on his eyes alerted Furihata that he was in for some hellish training. Without warnings, the ball was whipped at the brunet and their one on one session began.

 

*********

 

At around 9:45, Furihata was wiping away at the bucketload of sweat he had accumulated (thankfully sweat was the only fluid present; no blood nor tears were involved). True to his promise, Akashi didn’t go easy on him in his attempt to catch Furihata up to speed with the training that he missed. They even went beyond the requirement; Akashi kept pushing and pushing for Furihata’s improvement. By the end of their practice, Furihata was probably honed his basketball skills enough to join the second string players without the extra day of training tomorrow (that doesn’t mean he was excused from tomorrow’s practices).

 

As the evening continued, the temperature lowered. Despite his warmed up body acquired by the hour of vigorous exercise, Furihata still felt a chill whenever a cool breeze snuck its way in from outside. In a way, he was grateful for the breeze easing his body back to its rightful temperature. However, the existence of the chill indoors meant that Furihata would have a five minute walk back to the sleeping areas in the cold, dark night. Luckily, Akashi would also have to walk back; _they’ll walk back together_.

 

After Furihata caught his breath, all that the duo had to do before exiting the gym was return the rack filled with basketballs back to the equipment room. With Akashi leading the way and Furihata pushing from behind, they rolled the rack across the gym and inside the tiny storage room.

 

On the way inside the room, Furihata accidentally kicked a small object but didn’t think much of it. That is, until they tried to exit the room. A noticeable flaw with the equipment room was that there wasn’t any handles on the inside of the room. Essentially, the people within the room are screwed when the rubber piece jamming the door is moved.

 

Furihata only stood in guilt as he watched the captain bang on the door a couple of times while calling out in hopes that the noise would bring investigators. No luck, his effort was wasted when no one came, even after five minutes worth of the thumping sounds.

 

The two were at a lost at what to do. They did manage to find a flashlight thanks to the light seeping in from the tiny window situated at the top corner of the room. Initially, upon spying the window, they thought a method of escaping the storage room was discovered. Their hope was crushed seconds afterwards when they realized the window was too small.

 

“I don’t deserve to be known as the person with top grades at our school when my common sense is as low as the floor,” Akashi blurted out all of a sudden. “This is the 21st century, we have devices designed to fit in our pockets in case an emergency arises where we need to call for help. We could use our phones,” the captain deadpanned looking 120% done with life.

 

Furihata’s eyes lit up and began grabbing for his phone when he remembered his phone was lying on the floor outside. “I left my phone on the ground because it might fall out of my pockets during training,” the brunet regrettably admitted.

 

At the same time, Akashi pulled his phone (the latest model from a fancy brand of course) out of its resting spot and tried to activate it. After a minute of button pressing and glaring, the screen still remained black and Akashi was ready to chuck his phone at the wall (he could always buy a new one) because that was the only use the crappy, metal device had at the moment. Destroying the worthless device would certainly be therapeutic to vent the redhead’s frustrations. The captain noticed the brunet’s hopeful gaze and felt like he was kicking a beagle by delivering the news to him.  

 

“My phone ran out of batteries earlier and I didn’t have the chance to charge it,” a shook of his head accompanied the sentence.

 

A shared, defeated sigh sounded in the room. There wasn’t much that they could do in this situation. Their only option was to sit tight for the night and wait for others to come and free them. The duo decided to position themselves opposite of the window. There, they can basked in the rays of light coming from the moonlight and flashlight for the remainder of their lockin period.

 

“Hey look on the bright side,” Furihata chimed in, trying to stay optimistic. “At least we have a flashlight.”

 

Seconds after the positive insight was shared, the flashlight began flickering before stopping its delivery of light. The storage room turned noticeably darker and their only light source now was only supplied by the dim beams of moonlight.

 

“Or not…” Furihata winced at how he jinxed the situation.                     

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 150th Canada Day!!!! (even though I wasn't born in Canada ¯\\_▒ – ﹏ – ▒_/¯) Also to our neighbours, happy Independence Day!!!! (even though I have to go back to school for a month starting on that day ¯\\_▒ – ﹏ – ▒_/¯) 
> 
> My exams were finished a week ago so I had a break period to write this chapter and get something out before I need to go back to school again. The next update might take a while because I'm a masochist who signed up for summer school (getting civics and careers out of the way so I can do another elective) so please forgive me if I don't do anything until August. I'll also be writing a Taoris fic for a friend's birthday that's in a week and I didn't even start so unfortunately I can't work on this fic until that deadline passes. 
> 
> Sorry for all the random kpop references in an anime fic but @indigoandazure I challenge you to find all the inside jokes and references cause you mentioned how I barely put any in the last chapter. ⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ ) P.S. 你用肯定话语说 我们来创造奇迹 (hint for one of the references)
> 
> Let me just say how touched I was that some people remembered my fic and thanks for the support! It's been half a year yet I saw some familiar usernames and I wanted to cry. Shout out to everyone who commented, kudoed, or just gave this fic a chance by clicking and reading it!!! ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)
> 
> Here's my [Tumblr](https://addictedtofiction7190.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to talk AND OH PLEASE COMMENT ANY SUGGESTIONS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER CAUSE I HONESTLY DIDN'T PLAN THIS FAR IN THE FIC. (❁°͈▵°͈)
> 
> When I was writing this fic I only really planned up to when the two are locked in together and now I have no idea how to continue so I'd be delighted to hear any ideas (please help I'm not creative and lack the ability to write without having a basic prompt to go off of). Remember that the next chapter will be AkaFuri bonding, meaning that they will have the fluffiest time ever and you could essentially decide what happens. _〆(ﾟ▽ﾟ*)
> 
> Oh my god this author's note will end up being longer than the update I'm so sorry for the rambling I'll leave now. Kitty out. [^._.^]ﾉ彡


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